


The Way Home

by ForestFish



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anger Management, Angst, Blood and Injury, Cancer, Canonical Character Death, Christian guilt, Christianity, Coming of Age, Dissociation, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eren is a POC, Eren's mum is Turkish, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Growing Up, I don't think i've ever projected so much of my own shit ever, Implied narcissistic abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by Art, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of racist abuse, Music Mentions, Projecting onto characters, Rugby, Self-Indulgent, Sequel, Sexuality, Teen Angst, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Violence, Weird Plot Shit, and maybe that's why im so anxious about this, disease mentions, greek play elements, in-betweenness, man idk i just dont want to trigger anybody who decides to read this shite, plenty of german, they play rugby, tropey shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29537229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestFish/pseuds/ForestFish
Summary: "Eren was 15, and like most 15-year-olds, he had the whole world against him, and he was angry. Anger wasn’t a strong enough word for what he felt, though. It was rage. Rage, so consuming and inflamed that it was no longer red but white. Glowing white rage. They’d have to kill him to keep him on the ground. They’d have to lock him up to stop him from keeping on moving against the tide. They’d have to gag him to stop him from bellowing that he wouldn’t be silenced.""Reiner felt like something the cat had dragged into the house he lived in. He’d become a shield of sorts and sometimes feltlike he’d crack, but he never did."
Relationships: (implied) Annie/Berthold, (they have a moment) Sasha/Connie, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir, Levi Ackerman/Erwin Smith, Reiner Braun/Eren Yeager
Comments: 34
Kudos: 223





	1. The boy who was gunpowder

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hope you're well. Right off the bat, excuse any mistakes and misplaced italics.
> 
> This is the final part of a three-part thing. It started out as Eruri but Eren and Reiner were there and I was dragged into them, for better or for worse. You'll be the judge of that. I'm just going to say that this final part is the one where I projected the most. I don't think I'd ever projected so much of my own shit into anything. It unearthed things I'd forgotten and it took me over a week to write because I kept being thrown off the rails. All this to say what? That this may be weird and oddly specific at times. I minded the characters and did my best with the help of a very good friend (on whom I based a good deal of Eren's feelings towards Reiner). 
> 
> [Here's the link to the first part](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29277372/chapters/71896485). [Here's a link to Part 2: ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29363559/chapters/72130287). The second chapter of this one is explicit. The second part is just a continuation of the first part. 
> 
> This AU is still inspired by [@DoubleDumbo's art](https://twitter.com/ColumboDumbo/status/1357998861776805889). This is the Eren/Reiner part that was hinted at in the other parts. And you've all seen Columbo's fantastic ererei art. 
> 
> This third part is the last one and it kind of stands on its own but it takes place at the same time as the two other parts and I relied on previous knowledge at times. I connected Reiner to Marcel and Porco in the worst possible way but well, it's for the plot and the projection. 
> 
> If you're here for ererei and decide that you want that context after you're done, you can read the fourth chapter of part 1 and the first chapter of part 2. 
> 
> My god, here it goes. All of it in one go. I'm anxious because I projected too much but that's on me. I think it's all in the tags. I hope you don't regret it if you read it.

* * *

Eren was 15, and like most 15-year-olds, he had the whole world against him, and he was angry. Anger wasn’t a strong enough word for what he felt, though. It was rage. Rage, so consuming and inflamed that it was no longer red but white. Glowing white rage. They’d have to kill him to keep him on the ground. They’d have to lock him up to stop him from keeping on moving against the tide. They’d have to gag him to stop him from bellowing that he wouldn’t be silenced. 

He was often in trouble with the law, and his older brother had to get him out of police custody at least once every two weeks. His father never commented on his behaviour. That lack of reaction was responsible for the destruction of several objects in his room. His father was seldom at home, and when he was, he was mostly in his office and didn’t want to be disturbed. The only other family he had was Zeke, his half-brother, who lived with him, but he didn’t like to tell him things ever since he’d become a teacher at his school. 

That was yet another punch in the gut from the world. His brother was a teacher at his fucking school. That would haven’t been a problem if he looked anything like him. 

“He’s your brother? Are you sure?” Connie had awkwardly said when the subject arose. Zeke would never be Eren’s teacher – that was against the rules since they were related – but Eren shared the same surname as him. It couldn’t be a coincidence. When Connie pointed it out, Eren said that he was his brother. When he expressed his doubts, Eren had a burst of rage.

“We have different mothers!” he roared and slammed his fist on the table. That startled his friends and everyone within earshot.

“I-“ Connie tried to reason with him, looking at his friends for support. Jean huffed and shook his head, and Sasha shuffled away. Mikasa hit him. Eren glared at her, and she held his look.

“Don’t take out your anger on us,” she said firmly, “it’s a legitimate question. You do not look alike.” 

Eren massaged his side and gritted his teeth. Then he stood up and left them there without finishing his lunch.

“Let him go,” Mikasa said to Connie, who looked guilty, “there’s nothing you can do.”

“I shouldn’t have said it like that, of course, he was sure,” Connie muttered. 

“Not your fault he’s an asshole,” Jean defended him, annoyed, “what the hell is his problem?”

Eren’s problem was that he didn’t like to be reminded of the way he looked. Because he looked exactly like her. 

And he only had one clear memory of her.

* * *

Eren’s mother died when he was four. At least he had something in common with Zeke aside from the same stupid, cheating father. Though Zeke’s mother had died when he was 16, so he remembered her well. Eren hated his father more than anyone in the world. It was a good fucking thing that he didn’t care about him. Eren often thought about beating the living shit out of him.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to join a sport like that,” Sasha said, wary when he said he wanted to join the rugby team of their school.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Jean said, and that was one of the few times he agreed with Eren on something, “I think I’ll try joining too. Girls like sportsmen, don’t they?” he asked, hopeful.

Eren snorted loudly, and they were lucky that Mr. Ackerman didn’t catch them trying to choke each other, and Mikasa was there to punch them both in the gut.

Connie and Sasha sat that one out, joining the chess club instead. Eren, Mikasa, and Jean joined the rugby club. Armin went along with them, mostly because he had to join a club, and he didn’t want to join any club without people he already knew. Everyone was accepted to any clubs if there were still spots available. Sasha and Connie took the last two places in the chess club, otherwise known as the sit-around-and-do-nothing-but-snack club.

When they were in the shower rooms, which, unlike the team, weren’t co-ed, a friendly sophomore approached them to greet them. The boy was tall, well-built, and blond. His eyes were the colour of shimmering, warm, clear honey bathed in sunlight.

“Hey there, newbies,” he greeted, standing in front of them. Eren’s eyes shot up from his boots to look at the stranger, “I’m Reiner Braun, I’m one of the props. Tighthead.”

“Jean Kirstein,” Jean reached his hand to shake his. Reiner took it and gave it a firm shake.

“ _Kirstein,_ ” Reiner repeated, smiling a little. He had an accent when he pronounced the name.

“Armin Arlert,” Armin sheepishly reached his hand to shake his and was almost flew off the bench he was sitting on.

“ _Armin_ ,” Reiner’s smile turned into a toothy grin. He also pronounced his name with an accent.

Eren didn’t move to introduce himself, quickly tying his boots. Reiner looked at him.

“Hey,” he called, shaking and hand in front of his face. Eren glared up at him.

“His name is Eren Yeager,” Armin jumped in to introduce him.

“ _Jäger_?” he repeated. He pronounced it the right way. Eren’s hands started shaking. Armin sensed the danger and tried to stop him from getting in a fight before they’d even been on the pitch, “Can he hear alright?” Reiner asked, befuddled, looking from Eren to Armin.

Eren stood up. “I can hear fine,” he snapped. He was considerably shorter and slimmer than Reiner. Reiner stepped back, confused, looking at Eren’s friend’s, “don’t use that stupid accent to say my name!”

There was silence in the room as Eren stomped his way out into the pitch.

Reiner was frozen on the spot, staring at the door he’d just slammed behind him. 

“Sorry on his behalf,” Jean said, annoyed and worried about their upperclassman’s reaction, “he’s got a shit temper.”

Reiner frowned and pursed his lips. 

“Your accent is, it’s quite nice,” Armin tried, terrified and not hiding it, “my name is, it’s actually German. My parents are from Austria.”

That made the frown on Reiner’s face disappear. He looked down at him.

“Yeah, my surname’s also from around there,” Jean said, hoping it’d do something, but kind of wishing Reiner did punch the lights out of Eren, “my dad has Jewish ancestry. My mum’s French. I don’t know any German, though,” he said, smiling a bit.

“I can speak a little German,” Armin said, a little less scared, seeing that Reiner liked to hear it, “but not much. My parents never taught me a lot since I was born here.”

Reiner’s smile returned to his face. “You’re like Bert, then,” Reiner pointed with his thumb at a very tall guy who was standing nearby. He was lanky and hunched a little. Slightly awkward. Looked like he’d just dropped there and didn’t know where he was “ _Berthold_.”

Reiner went around introducing the newbies to their teammates and telling them how nice it was to have fresh faces there. They’d thought nobody would be joining in. 

* * *

“Where are the others?” Mikasa asked Eren when she saw him come out of the shower rooms by himself.

“Inside, making friends,” Eren snapped. Mikasa gave him a look. “Don’t start with me!”

“If anyone’s starting anything, it’s you,” Mikasa countered, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “what happened?”

“None of your business,” he said and meant to walk away when a strong hand pressed against his chest. He looked up to see cold, brown eyes stare at him through a messy brown fringe.

“That’s no way to speak to a lady,” she said with a rather unfriendly smile, “apologise.”

“There’s no need for that,” Mikasa said flatly, “He’s my best friend. It’s alright, Ymir.”

“Hm,” Ymir removed the hand from Eren’s chest. He was shaking and had fisted his hands. She studied him for a minute, staring into his eyes, “those are some green eyes you’ve got there. So much anger to hide what?” she smiled, leaning down, so close their noses almost touched. Eren wasn’t expecting that, but he didn’t move back “Pathetic.”

“Now, Ymir, don’t be like that to the new-comers,” an adult voice called from behind Eren, who looked back to see the rugby team’s coach.

Coach Mike Zacharias was a huge man with a calm personality who only raised his voice to urge his players to keep going. He didn’t sound mad.

Ymir shrugged and stepped back. “I was just teaching him some manners, Mike,” she said, smiling. 

Coach Mike put a placating hand on Eren’s shoulder, which made him tense up. “Don’t mind her. She’s cocky because she knows I’d never throw out the strongest player in the team.”

“Formerly the prettiest, too,” Ymir said with a smile, fanning her eyelashes. She eyed Mikasa, “I guess I’ve been thrown out of the eye-candy position.”

The other boys joined them then.

“Oh, we’ve got one more girl, that’s nice,” Reiner said, walking up to Mikasa and reaching his hand to hers. She shook it, “Reiner Braun.”

“Mikasa Ackerman.”

“Ackerman?”

“No relation to Mr. Levi Ackerman that I know of,” she said, almost automatically, not smiling but agreeable. Reiner nodded. 

There was a round of introductions then, and Eren begrudgingly introduced himself at last.

“Like the maths teacher?” one of the team members asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed through gritted teeth.

“Are you related? You don’t look alike,” the same guy said. Eren stared up at his lily-white face, and the guy blinked at him.

Eren’s fists were paling at the knuckles, and he was shaking. “We have _different mothers_ ,” he said.

“Okay, damn,” the guy said. His name was Olly something. Eren didn’t remember and didn’t care to remember.

There were three other girls aside from Ymir in the team, tall, pretty, and built like mountains. It turned out that the team really needed new members. Armin wasn’t a good player, but he had a bit of fight in him if they scared him enough. Mikasa was, coach Mike noted, on par with Ymir where it came to natural talent - he said that with practice, she’d be the one to stand in the fly-half position, which was Ymir’s. Jean would be a decent flanker, maybe a number 8 later, after a good deal of practice. 

Then there was Eren, or as coach Mike called him, _gunpowder boy._ Eren was volatile. Anybody saying anything to him prompted him to shout, and he didn’t know much about the rules of rugby, which made it more aggravating for everyone on the pitch. By the end of the first practice scrum, everyone wanted him gone. 

Coach Mike didn’t, though. 

“He’s got raw energy,” the coach said to the team. Eren was standing away from them with his friends and being scolded by Mikasa and Jean, “I smell potential in him.”

Ymir groaned. “Maybe your nose’s broken, Mike,” she said, “he doesn’t even know the rules. He’s a stupid spoiled brat with anger issues.”

“And he’s skinny,” Reiner said and glancing at him, seeing his glare, “he’ll end up getting trampled.”

“He won’t get trampled,” coach Mike said, “not with that amount of anger, he won’t. Trust me. That anger is great for the game. We can change him.”

Ymir scoffed. “I’m nobody’s mother to be changing dirty diapers.”

Some of the other players laughed. 

Right off the bat, Eren was shunned by his teammates. Nobody doubted that it was entirely his fault.

In the end, all four of them stayed in the team. Eren knew he’d been singled out and that everyone hated him, but he didn’t care. If everyone hated him, he'd hate everyone back, twice as hard.

His lamp was the victim of his wrath that evening, and he took out the rest of his fury on the free-standing punching bag his brother had bought him for his 15th birthday. 

Skinny?

_Skinny?_

* * *

Connie and Sasha weren’t shocked when they heard that Eren had antagonised the entire rugby team in less than two hours. What they were shocked to hear was how quickly he’d decided that he would hate Reiner more than everyone on the team.

“And you don’t understand how cool he was,” Jean said to them at lunch the following day. Eren was eating by himself. He was mad at them. They let him be, “he came to talk to us and introduced himself. And that asshole just went off for no reason.”

Mikasa hadn’t heard that part of the story yet.

“No reason?” Sasha asked.

“Yeah, no damn reason,” Jean confirmed, “he called his accent stupid, and you should have seen Reiner’s look. Like he’d been slapped in the face.”

Mikasa pondered a moment. She knew that there was a reason but didn’t feel like it was her place to tell them. 

All she said was, “Don’t judge him too harshly.”

Jean scoffed. “I damn well will. Sorry, Mikasa, but no. I won’t forget that that twat set fire to my science project in year 7 just because I said he was adopted.”

“You said after seeing his dad and his brother,” Connie reminded him, “I know you had been fighting. But you said that after seeing his family.”

Jean remembered it then and felt a flush creep up to his cheeks. He’d forgotten that completely. All he remembered was his model of the Milky Way that he’d spent weeks working on erupting into flames.

He scratched his forehead and sniffed. “I did say that… it was an asshole thing to say, I admit it,” he said, “but setting fire to my project was messed up.”

“It was,” Sasha offered and took the plate from Armin’s tray when he pushed it in her direction. It was some sort of stew. Armin was a bit picky with his food, “but saying he was adopted was mean.”

Jean made a face. “It wasn’t like I was reasonable back then. I was 12,” Jean defended himself.

“So was he,” Mikasa defended Eren, who wasn’t there to defend himself, “don’t argue, Jean. You’re not right either.”

“Why do you always defend him?” Jean complained, forking some of his stew and deciding that he didn’t want it anymore. He pushed the tray aside. Connie was happy to get his leftovers, “I don’t know how you even became so close to him.”

Mikasa looked straight at him. “Because I want to,” she said, “and that’s between me and him.”

“He’s not here to defend himself, too,” Sasha said, stuffing more stew into her mouth, “it’s fair that someone else does it.”

“He’s not here because he doesn’t want to be,” Jean countered and then huffed. “If he has issues, he should talk about them.”

“Maybe it’s not easy,” Armin reasoned, mildly, eating a bit of bread, “when he’s ready to talk, we’ll be here,” he paused seeing Jean’s look, “well, some of us will.”

Connie sniffed. “You know,” he said, “Reiner lives in my street,” that was something none of them knew. It’d never mattered until then, “I know his family. I used to play with him and his brothers when we were smaller, but then, uh,” he stopped and shrugged, “my dad didn’t want me to hang out around there anymore.”

“Maybe he fell out with them,” Sasha suggested, “it’s weird that your dad would do that, though. Your dad likes everyone.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Connie said and shrugged. He focused on eating Jean’s leftovers.

There were many possibilities. Connie didn’t say anything else on the matter. Jean huffed and glanced at the table where Eren had been. He’d already left. Jean shook his head.

“I only tolerate his ass because we,” he pointed at the people at their table, “are friends. And you want to have him around.”

He’d said it that way, but the truth was that it was because of Mikasa and, to some extent, Armin that everyone put up with Eren and his current moods.

“Don’t be so mean, Jean,” Sasha said again, “Eren isn’t a bad person!”

“I’m just being honest. He’s not good either.”

“He’s cool,” Connie defended, and then, “except when he’s in one of his moods… I mean, everyone has bad moments. Guess he just has them more often.”

Jean checked the time on his wristwatch. “Which makes him an asshole,” he insisted, “it’s almost time to go.”

Lunch break was short. Especially when you wanted to eat your share and your friends’ leftovers.

* * *

Eren didn’t talk to anybody the rest of the day or the days that followed. Sometimes his rage silenced him. This was one of those times.

Rugby practice was great to let off steam. He got to be angry all he liked. He got to ram into people, full-force, without getting in trouble. And he liked it even if everyone hated his guts. Even if he had to see that stupid German guy. Even if he had to put up with Ymir calling him a lanky shithead. Even if he had to put up with Mikasa scolding him after practice.

His “friends” knew better than to push it when he was like that, and he knew they didn’t even like him. Not anymore, anyway. He remembered when they’d been actual friends back in year six. They only let him be with them now because of Mikasa and Armin. That pissed him off, too. He didn’t need anyone’s charity friendship. He turned off his phone and logged off all social media. He was damn fine on his own. But he didn’t want to go home. 

And he wandered about alone and ended up at the harbour. 

“Hi,” he muttered, sitting on the boardwalk, staring down at the water. It calmed him to look at it. Swaying slowly, in waves, that crashed and ebbed away. The smell of salt was soothing. All he had to do was close his eyes, and no matter how cold it was, it’d be warm again. He’d be far away, holding a soft hand, hearing the cries of seagulls, and he’d hear her laughter. And her big yellow hat that looked like the sun. That was the only time he remembered being happy. The only time he remembered not feeling alone.

* * *


	2. The boys with many hearts

* * *

Reiner felt like something the cat had dragged into the house he lived in. He’d become a shield of sorts and sometimes felt like he’d crack, but he never did. 

“I’m home,” he announced as he walked through the door to the house. Nobody said anything. He sighed and went to the kitchen to get something to eat. He made himself a sandwich and was getting a glass of milk when he heard the unmistakable sound of dragged feet and wheezy breathing. He gripped the glass and sat at the breakfast bar. 

“Hello,” Reiner greeted his stepfather who’d just walked into the kitchen. He said nothing about how that man looked at him.

“Hello,” he greeted him and asked for his mother with the hoarse, wheezy voice Reiner had grown used to. Reiner told him he didn’t know. The man hummed and got himself something to eat. Then he sat beside him. You couldn't have sat two people more different side by side.

Reiner’s biological father had left when he was 3 and his mother had remarried. They’d had two more sons. Bereavement following both his brothers’ untimely deaths, had led Mr. Galliard to take everything out on Reiner and his mother. Reiner adopted some of his brother Marcel’s mannerisms as a defence mechanism. Marcel had been Mr. Galliard’s golden boy. He’d looked the most like him.

And it’d been a few months since he’d physically attacked Reiner. His stepfather was a man with a bad heart. The last time he’d attacked him, he’d had a minor heart attack and ended up in the hospital. He was told he should stop drinking and couldn’t strain himself. But he didn’t heed the advice very much.

Reiner acted as much as he could like Marcel. His mother didn’t stop him, but Reiner saw that it hurt her. Reiner was sure the neighbours could hear his stepfather scream at the top of his lungs that he should have died, not them. But nobody did anything. 

* * *

Reiner hadn’t lived in Germany since he was 9 and moved away with his mother, her new husband, and his two half-brothers. It’d been hard for him to lose his accent and learn English. He’d been held back a year because of it. He knew the shameful history of his homeland, but it was still his homeland, and it would be until the day that he died. He thought in German, he wrote in German, and his phone was full of German music. His favourites were Falco, Die Ärtze, and Die Toten Hosen. 

On the walk to school that day, Reiner was glad that one of his favourite songs came on shuffle on his mp4 player. _Alles passiert_ by Die Toten Hosen.

German was forbidden at home, but in school, sometimes it slipped. At home, it was dangerous, but at school, it was alright. His friends asked him to say more things in German when it happened. His favourite thing to say when that happened was, _“Wenn deine Großmutter Räder hätte, wäre sie eine Straßenbahn”._ He said it with a straight face, and people thought it meant something cool.

He wasn’t proud of the history of his country, but he loved his language. It connected him to better times. 

Reiner wasn’t one to hold grudges, and it was hard to get him mad. Mocking his language, though, was a sure way to do that.

He didn’t want to do anything about Eren and his aggravating personality, but the kid seemed to want to get him to kill him. 

The difference, Reiner reasoned, was that he hadn’t said it to mock him. There was raw anger in his eyes and words. Reiner thought that maybe he just didn’t like Germans, but that didn’t make sense. His friends had German- _ish_ backgrounds. So, what was his issue?

The weeks that followed were a test to Reiner’s patience, especially during practice. That scraggly bastard was tough, Reiner admitted, and it seemed like he wanted to maim him. Reiner was bigger and physically stronger than he was. It took several people to tackle Reiner. Eren’s tackles didn’t throw him down until he started aiming for the legs. Reiner avoided actually fighting him, mostly because rugby was something he loved, and he didn’t want to cause trouble, but the crazy motherfucker was obsessed with him.

The first time he feared going to detention and fell in Mr. Ackerman’s red list was when Eren purposefully tripped him when he was passing him by outside in the courtyard. He almost fell. The anger he’d been holding in exploded then. He grabbed the bastard by the collar of his shirt and pulled him up to his level. His feet almost were dangling off the floor.

“Listen, if you do that again, I’m bashing your fucking face in,” he threatened. Eren grabbed his fists, and Reiner felt him stab the back of his fists with his nails. He didn’t let go even when he felt the blood drip out of his skin. 

Eren glared at him, unafraid. “Fucking do it, then!” he yelled back. Then Mr. Ackerman showed up.

“What the fuck do you assholes think you’re doing?” he asked. Reiner let go of Eren and threw him away, making him stagger back and trip over the edge of one of the flowerbeds and tumble backwards into a blue hydrangea bush. 

“He started it, Mr. Ackerman,” Reiner pointed a shaking finger at Eren, who was trying to untangle himself from the leaves. Their friends had been around, and everyone confirmed that it was true.

Mr. Ackerman looked from one to the other in silence. His nostrils flared, and he got his notebook. Reiner felt the colour drain from his face.

“Names and classes.” 

“Reiner Braun. 11, 6.”

“Eren Yeager. 10, 4.”

Mr. Ackerman gritted his teeth and took notes of the numbers. Then he closed the notebook and looked at them.

“You’re off with a warning this time because you were outside,” he told them, “but next time I catch you fighting, you’re getting detention.”

That was all he said before walking away. It was crazy how terrifying such a short man could be. 

“What the fuck is your problem, you moron?” Reiner heard Jean say as Mikasa helped him up. He walked away with Annie and Bert. It was lunchtime, and Bert said his mum had made too much food again. She was a great cook but had no portion control. They sat under a large oak tree that was out in the yard. The day was sunny and warm.

“Your accent isn’t stupid, but you are for letting him get to you,” Annie said after he explained in broad lines what had been happening since that day in the shower rooms, “you could knock him out cold with a good punch.” She shook her head.

Reiner shrugged. “I don’t want trouble,” he said, “but I’m reaching the limit of my patience,” he said and huffed. The backs of his hands were bleeding. Bert handed him a pack of handkerchiefs and a bottle of hand sanitizer, “thanks.”

Annie scoffed. “Let me know if you need someone to kick his ass, then. I’d love to do the honours.”

“You’ll end up in detention, so no,” Reiner said firmly, “maybe he’ll get tired soon.”

“It’s been a month. He won’t get tired,” Bert told him mildly, “you’ll end up getting in trouble with Eren,” he prophesised, “because it seems like he’s targeting you specifically.”

“I think he doesn’t like Germans,” Reiner said, voice low, bitter, “I didn’t even do anything to him.”

“Maybe he’s racist against Germans,” Annie suggested vaguely.

Bert made a face. “That’s not a thing, Annie. Reiner is white,” he said.

“And?”

“And that’s not a thing,” Bert repeated, shaking his head, “you want to say he’s something, make it xenophobic or biased. Not racist. There’s no such thing as racism against white people.”

Annie shrugged. “Maybe so. Semantics. I don’t care. What I care about is that this asshole is bothering Reiner, and I may have to show him some manners,” she said and smiled.

Reiner’s attention had been momentarily stolen by a certain blonde beauty walking by.

“That’s trouble,” Bert said, shaking his head, “she’s Ymir’s girl.”

“They’re not dating,” Reiner frowned at him, looking away from Historia, “she’s nobody’s girl.”

“Historia likes Ymir too, dimwit. Why do you think she joined the cheer squad?” Annie smacked his arm, “But she’s too prudish to go and ask Ymir out and I’d never seen that girl in love, but she’s a disaster,” she said and yawned, “can we skip classes?

“And if you make a pass, you may have to face Ymir,” Bert said and glanced at Annie, who returned his look with a small, lopsided smile. Bert frowned slightly. “Just forget about her. Ymir’s already caught on to your silly glances. It’s a matter of time until she kicks you in the balls,” he warned, then turned to Annie, “I don’t think skipping classes is a good idea, Annie.”

She sighed and leant against the tree. “I’m taking a nap anyway.”

Reiner sighed. “Fine,” he said and finished his lunch, “tell your mum the food was great.”

They were right, though; he didn’t want to face Ymir. It was too much trouble. It was barely a crush, and he knew it painfully well.

* * *

Annie had become Reiner’s friend in middle school. She’d been as friendless as he was, but not because she had a foreign accent - she had been born and raised right there. The other kids were terrified of her. It wasn’t even that she was mean. Her lack of emotions and desire to play with the other kids made her the target of bullying at first, but it turned out that pushed in the wrong direction, she would fight. And she was good at it. Then she joined a gym where she honed her fighting skills through learning Systema.

She befriended Reiner solely because of the one time she saw him lose his cool. She’d thought he’d been quite wimpy before, letting kids tease him for his accent without reacting. He went in full-force at a kid who did a rude and wildly insensitive sign with his right arm stretched out with his palm open and raised before his head. Berthold had been with him at the time and had been the one to get him off the kid. When the adults got there, Annie stepped in to tell them what had happened, and while Reiner got away with a warning, the other kid was suspended. 

She decided that maybe she could be their friend then. It was kind of boring to be alone all the time. Getting a crush on Reiner was never part of her plans, and she knew she’d gotten a crush on the wrong guy because Reiner didn’t seem to be into girls. Of course, he was yet to come out of the closet, and she wasn’t such a piece of shit that she’d force him to out himself. But it was obvious enough. The only girl she’d ever seen him look at was Historia, and, frankly, that was only because she was a real beauty. And she also knew that Historia was about as straight as Ymir, which meant not at all. 

“For someone straight,” Bert told her when she pointed that out, “you have a keen radar for that.”

“Never said I was straight,” Annie said languidly, “I have eyes,” she added. Reiner hadn’t been with them at the time. Bert had taken her out for ice-cream by the harbour after classes, “and Reiner should get his off her.”

“And focus them on you?” 

Bert's blunt question caught her off-guard. She looked at him and saw his eyes on her.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t hide it as well as you think you do,” Bert said, placid, eating his ice-cream. His voice was strained, holding back bitterness and his hand was trembling.

She scoffed. “What’s that? Don’t tell me you like me,” she said. Bert’s look was all the answer she needed. She shook her head, “You’re too wimpy for my liking, sorry.”

Bert smiled a little, despite his reddening cheeks, which also caught her off-guard. “That’s fine by me, because I know I’d have more chances with him than you.”

She looked at him, blinking. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Bert told her, calmly spooning the rest of his ice-cream.

“Did he tell you?”

Bert shook his head, not looking at her. “Of course, he didn’t, but you know I play rugby with him,” he said, “and I don’t mean that he’s weird with the guys. He’s not. But I have eyes,” he said and faced her again, “You’re just mad that you’re not the one he thinks he has a crush on.”

Annie scoffed at that one. “Well, who would have thought,” she said, finishing her own ice-cream, “guess you’re not that spineless.”

Bert shrugged. Annie dropped the subject at once. They didn’t get to think about it at that moment because someone had started a ruckus on the street just ahead of them. 

All the heads turned in that general direction and saw, not without surprise, that Eren was apparently trying to have a go at two guys with shaved heads and horrific tattoos. Annie thought of leaving him to his luck. Then she saw one of the skinheads pull a knife on him. She got up, and Bert got up after her. They dashed over to them.

Systema was a martial art designed to disarm and kill. Annie wasn’t tall, and she wasn’t taller than the knife-wielder, but he didn’t have the time to stab Eren before she’d jumped him. She twisted his arm and made him drop the knife. Her knees slammed against his chest. He gasped for air and staggered backwards. Her feet were back on the floor and she kicked his knee from behind, throwing him off balance. Before he could react, he was on the floor, and she’d knocked him out with a kick in the ear. Bert was taller than the other, and all he had to do was hook his arm and clock him in the nose. He chicken-danced backwards and fell on his ass, knocked out. 

Eren was shaking, he’d been scared there, but the glimmer of hatred and rage in his welled-up eyes told them that he’d have let them stab him. Bert grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of there before anybody else could arrive. Eren didn’t struggle under his upperclassman’s hand.

“What happened?” Bert asked when they were at a safe distance. Eren was still shaking. Annie crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Well?” she demanded, “We don’t have all day.”

Eren fixed his eyes on the floor. His fists were still clenched, and he was still trembling. His sleeves were rolled back.

“Why didn’t you run?” Bert asked, towering over him, but calmly, “That was reckless, Eren.”

“What did you even say to them, stupid kid?” Annie asked flatly.

“I said nothing!” Eren exploded at last, “People like that should be in jail!”

“But you didn’t run,” Bert reasoned, “they were adults, not people in school. That was ridiculously dangerous.”

“Maybe I don’t care,” Eren said, glaring up at him, “if anyone looks down on me, I won’t be quiet.”

He was shaking with anger, and without another word, he dashed off. 

Annie scoffed. “A thank you would have been nice,” she said. Bert watched Eren disappear into the crowd with pursed lips.

“I hope he lives nearby,” Bert said, and shook his head. Annie shrugged, “He’s right. People like that should be in jail.”

“Nothing we can do about it,” Annie said and patted his back, “nice hook. Didn’t think you had it in you.” 

Bert blushed and shrugged. He was worried. He had never noticed how bruised Eren’s wrists were. Big round, yellowish bruises, covered a large area of his forearms. Some of them were scabbing like he’d bitten them.

* * *

Those two subhuman bastards were often around the harbour area.

Eren didn’t live nearby, but he was there a lot, despite being vaguely aware of the danger he was in. It was funny, in that it wasn’t funny at all, that the media liked to speak of racism as if it were a thing of the past. He knew damn well that it was still alive and well.

Eren had known, from the moment he’d moved to Germany, that he had a colour. 

He’d known that his father wasn’t the same colour as his mother, but he’d been a child then. He couldn't remember much about Turkey aside from being happy. And the beach.

They also had a colour, though. Wasn’t white a colour? It made no sense to him, but it was alright, or as alright as it could be. People thought he was cute with his big green eyes and his big smile. He’d learnt the language quickly, being so young, and then he didn’t have a mother. He remembered it that way. One day he had a mother, she was in a hospital, and the next day he didn’t. Only later would he learn about cancer.

His father didn’t comfort him, and neither did the brother he had in Germany, the son of another woman. He got a pat on the shoulder and little more than that.

Suddenly he was all alone. It’d seldom been bad. It just seemed odd that people would comment on his skin-colour. He didn’t much mind it until he moved out of Germany, so far away from his Turkish roots, not knowing any Turkish aside from ‘ _seni seviyorum’_. That was the last thing he heard his mother say before she no longer existed. 

He was a Turk there. A Turk who didn’t know Turkish. And he had to prove his Germanness every time he was asked where he was from. If he had to hear ‘but where are you _really_ from’ one more time, he’d combust.

The only person who’d never questioned where he was from had been Mikasa. She’d defended him when they were 10 and met for the first time and he was about to cry in anger again.

“He says he’s German, so he is,” she said and stood between him and the kids making fun of him. She also had an accent and didn’t know the language that well at the time. Her parents had lived in Japan until the previous year. Mikasa squared up and the kids backed away. Later Eren had asked her if she knew how to fight, and she’d smiled and said she didn’t, but people thought she did when she pretended to know. She was Eren’s first friend and he still put her before anyone else.

But it didn’t do anything to get rid of the feelings of in-betweenness. Eren felt like a foreigner everywhere, and he was lost. 

He thought that maybe he’d move to Turkey when he was older, but then he didn’t know the language and wouldn’t connect with it. And there he’d just be permanently called a liar for saying he was German because he didn’t have an accent. They only believed it when he called them all the names he could remember in his native language.

The only good thing his brother had ever done for him had been giving him that free-standing punching bag. His bitten arms were healing a little better now.

He was 15, he felt like the whole world is crumbling around him because everything was changing too quickly, and he had to deal with the feeling of not belonging anywhere alone. 

It was the loneliness that got to him. He wanted to reach out, but the anger was like scorching lava running through his brain, and he couldn’t. When Mikasa texted him that night, he ignored her, and when she called him, he turned off his phone.

* * *


	3. The boy who almost froze and the one who didn’t let him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the dialogue appears in italics it means they're speaking German. I did it like this because sometimes it felt right to have the original since they were in a context where nobody else spoke it.

* * *

Reiner fought a silent battle. Sometimes he believed that he’d caused his brothers’ deaths because he had to hear it over and over. But how could he be responsible for his stepfather and his mother carrying the same gene that gave his brothers the same deadly lung disease? Their blood-type hadn’t been the same. Reiner didn’t even carry any form of antibody against it. He’d loved them, just like they had. The emptiness of not having them around was a wound that cut deep and would never heal.

His friends knew that his father wasn’t biological, but they didn’t know it was bad. He didn’t let anything on, and he spent his energy playing rugby, which helped because he was liked there. 

Lately, though, he didn’t know who he was anymore, who the real Reiner was because Eren had rekindled an old grievance. He hadn’t been that angry in years. Just the thought of the asshole with the green eyes enraged him. It was a miracle that they’d played together for about four months and hadn’t had an actual fight with each other. 

Eren was a freshman, but his name was widely known, and people knew better than to try to say anything to him. Reiner wasn’t scared of him, but he’d rather avoid finding out what happened in detention with Mr. Ackerman.

The winter holidays that year were about as bad as every other year since his brothers had died. They didn’t celebrate it for one, it was just another day. No Christmas tree or presents. Then Reiner locked himself up in his room and avoided his stepfather. On New Year’s Eve, he decided not to be there. He told his mother he’d be spending it with friends - which was a lie - and left the house. 

It had snowed, so he took a thick, long winter coat, a winter hat, and heavy snow boots. He didn’t know where he wanted to go. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be there. New Year’s Eve was worse than Christmas. It’d been five years.

The snow had stopped, but the wind was bitterly cold against his cheeks. 

Nobody was outside, not with that weather, and the streetlights had strings of Christmas lights curled around them like twinkling snakes with many eyes. The colours reflected on the snow, and he trudged slowly over the pavement, leaving his heavy footprints behind him.

That’s what he wanted. To be alone. He wanted to be allowed to mourn without being attacked or yelled at. He plugged his ears with his earphones and listened to classical music at a low volume. He didn’t want to hear anyone’s words. Schoenberg. _Verklärte Nacht._

It was midnight then. He heard the fireworks and saw the colours in the sky, and he looked at them. They sprinkled the snow with colours. He felt the smell of gunpowder, even though they were being set off at the centre, not there, in that poorly frequented area with almost no Christmas lights.

He hadn’t expected to find anyone at the harbour, where he sometimes went to forget, but there it was, a person. He realised with a pang that he knew who it was. He was about to turn around when he saw that he wasn’t wearing a coat and was sobbing and slamming his fists against the snow-covered boardwalk. The dim lights behind him cast his shadow across the snow and into the dark sea.

Reiner was sure that Eren wouldn’t be happy to see him, to say the very least, but he was only wearing thin clothes, and he seemed to be wearing trainers, not boots. He’d freeze out there.

“Hey,” he called, taking his earphones off his ears, and shoving them down his pocket. He stopped at a safe distance from him. Eren was surrounded by a cloud of his own warm breath, and when he heard it, he hurried to his feet too quickly and almost fell off into the freezing seawater below. Reiner stepped forward on reflex.

“What… are you… doing here?” Eren said with difficulty, glaring at him. The tears on his cheeks were white. They’d frozen to his skin. He was shaking so badly, he looked like he’d break.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Reiner said in return, not hiding the worry and the anger, “you’ll freeze to death.”

Eren’s teeth were clattering, and he couldn’t say anything for a second. “And… and what do you, what do you care?” he asked.

“I won't watch you die and walk away,” Reiner said over the whistling sound of the wind, “don't you have a home to return to?"

Eren’s face scrunched up, and his trembling lips were turning blue. He closed his eyes. His reddened fists were tightly clenched, almost like they were already frozen. It looked like he wanted to cry, but his tears had frozen. Reiner saw him drop to his knees and heard him scream incoherently. It was a chilling sound in the freezing cold. It was like the sorrow and fear of a wounded animal who knew he was going to be killed. 

Reiner's eyes stung. He knew that pain.

He closed the distance between them and knelt with him in the snow and pulled his coat open. He didn’t expect Eren to struggle away, but he also didn’t expect him to wrap his shaking arms around his back, under his coat, and hold him tightly. Reiner put his own arms around Eren’s back and pulled his freezing body against his chest. Eren sobbed in silence on his shoulder and gripped the back of his sweater. 

They didn’t say anything to each other until Reiner felt like he’d warmed him up enough for him to start thinking again.

“Can you call someone to come pick you up?” he asked softly in his ear. 

Eren sniffled. “I could,” he muttered, voice hoarse, almost gone.

“Then do,” Reiner told him and stood up, pulling him up as he did and not letting go. He didn’t have a coat, and Reiner wasn’t going to give him his because then he’d be the one to freeze to death.

“I don’t have my phone,” Eren said, “I don’t know, I don’t have any numbers in my head.”

Reiner groaned and reached into the pocket inside his coat, “ _Scheiße,”_ he muttered, almost inaudible and without letting go of him scrolled down the list, “Jean, Mikasa or Armin?”

“Armin,” Eren muttered, “Mikasa isn’t in the country, and Jean doesn’t like me.” Reiner looked for his number and called. It was past midnight, maybe he’d be celebrating still, but when he heard Armin’s voice, he sounded like he’d been asleep.

“Reiner?” 

“Yes, it’s me, this is kind of bad, but would you mind getting someone to come down to the harbour and get Eren?”

“Eren?”

“Yeah.”

There was silence. Armin ought to be processing the information with a sleepy brain.

“Why are you two together?”

“I have no idea,” was Reiner’s honest reply, “but he needs to go home and doesn’t have his phone on him.”

Armin was silent again.

“Okay, I’ll, um, I’ll go wake up my dad,” he said, “you’re at the harbour?”

“Yeah, by the boardwalk, with all the boats,” Reiner explained.

“Okay, we’ll be right over,” Armin said and turned off the call. Reiner put the phone back in his pocket and looked at the freezing idiot still clinging to him. 

“Now we wait,” he said and huffed, putting both arms around him again. Not a word was passed between them. When Armin arrived with his dad, Eren slowly let go of Reiner, and Reiner could have sworn the 'thank you' he whispered wasn’t in English, but he couldn’t be sure. It was windy, and he was still fighting his own demons. He walked on, unsure of where he’d go, buying himself some time until he was sure it was safe to go back. 

* * *

Eren didn’t say anything to Armin and his dad all the way back to his own house. And when they got there, all he said was thank you and sorry for the trouble. Armin seemed like he wanted to call after him but ultimately decided against it. His dad gave him a look, but Armin shook his head, and they drove off as soon as they saw Eren’s door open and his brother standing at the door. They left when they saw him get in the house.

 _“Where did you go?”_ Zeke asked him. They spoke in German at home. He looked at his frostbitten hands and cheeks _“Without even wearing a coat.”_

Eren didn’t respond and kept his eyes on the floor. He was hurting all over and his brain was a mess. Nobody was there at the time. Their father wasn’t home for the New Year’s Eve – him being there for Christmas had been a miracle – and Zeke had been out somewhere. He’d asked Eren if he wanted to come, but he’d said he didn’t. 

_“Out,”_ Eren muttered. His voice was raspy, and his throat hurt as much as everything else.

_“In the snow?”_

_“I’m going to bed,”_ Eren told him. Zeke held his arm. Eren was too tired and hurt to try to shake him off.

_“Where were you, Eren?”_

_“I told you I was out,”_ Eren said, barely above a whisper, _“I’m here, aren’t I? Didn’t die. Dad won’t be in trouble because of me. Let me go.”_

Zeke slowly let go, and Eren was thankful for the stupid look in his eyes and his lack of things to say. 

In his bedroom, he slowly peeled off his clothes and cranked up the heating. It hurt so badly. He didn’t know frostbite hurt so much. His hands and feet were reddened and felt like they were on fire, but he could move everything fine. 

He’d ran out of the house in a fit of rage when the loneliness overwhelmed him. It wasn’t like he wanted to freeze to death in the snow; he just wanted to run and get to the sea. 

Nobody knew about it, but the sea comforted him, and it was his way of coping with everything that hurt. He felt closer to his mum when he was by the sea. And he needed that comfort. He needed to feel her company. 

But the night was freezing, and soon he found himself freezing too. He cried out into the dark, wide sea, with the icy wind rubbing against his cheeks, harsh as sandpaper, freezing his tears to his face. He couldn’t stand the loneliness anymore. That breakdown was long coming. He couldn’t stand not having someone to turn to when he felt lost and confused. Zeke was a little better than their father, but not much, and he’d throw himself into the sea before sharing more than he needed with him. He’d told him Mr. Ackerman was foulmouthed in a fit of anger when his brother confronted him about his fight with Reiner in the courtyard, but that was it. That was the closest thing to ‘sharing’ that had happened between them.

And it had been Reiner, the person he'd been tormenting for months, to be there to hold him.

In bed, curled up under his blankets and in the warmest pyjamas he could find he thought about Reiner, who hadn’t let him die. He saw him coming towards him, with his eyes welling up, and he felt him hold him without saying anything. Without judging him. And he cried again, feeling like the shittiest person in the world.

* * *

Armin wasn’t told to shut his mouth about what had happened on New Year’s Day, but he assumed he shouldn’t say anything about it. It’d been surreal to get that call from Reiner in the middle of the night while he was asleep after a quiet little celebration with his parents. It’d been even weirder to find them holding each other by the sea.

Eren felt like a different person when the new semester started. Everyone noticed that he was less aggressive. He was still the same snappy Eren who didn’t like to be teased, but somehow, he looked calmer. 

“I don’t know what happened,” Jean said when they were all sitting around the table for lunch, “but the change is welcome. Nobody could put up with that shitty mood anymore.”

Eren glared at him but didn’t say anything and kept eating instead.

“Don’t provoke him, Jean,” Mikasa said, looking at him. She also didn’t know what had happened, having returned from Japan with her parents just in time for the new semester. 

“I’m just pointing out a fact,” Jean defended, frowning, “he can defend himself if he doesn’t like it.”

“I don’t like it,” Eren said, looking up at him, “so shut up.”

He didn’t sound angry, just mildly upset.

Jean blinked at him and glanced at their friends, who were also surprised.

“Okay, fine,” Jean said back, “can we know what made you cool down?”

“The cold,” he said flatly, frowning, “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s none of your business.”

Jean was ticked. “I’m just asking,” he said, “good to know you’re still an asshole.”

“Yeah, I am,” Eren said, eating his food. That was also new. Mikasa looked at him. She wanted to ask, but she’d do it later when they were alone.

Eren didn’t want to talk about it, though. Mikasa wasn’t one to push. She’d gotten used to getting her calls rejected and her texts ignored lately. That stung but she wouldn’t force him to talk when he didn’t want to. Eren had never said directly that he didn’t want to talk about it, though.

“We’re friends, Eren,” Mikasa reminded him. He shrugged. It was cold outside, and classes had ended. Mikasa’s dad would come to pick her up, Eren would take the bus. Their friends had already left.

“I know, I just don’t want to talk about it,” he said to her, looking into her eyes, “aren’t you happy I’m not being as shitty anymore?”

Mikasa pursed her lips and gave him a look. “I know you’re not actually shitty, Eren. I know why you were so angry. We’re friends.”

Eren shrugged again and looked away. “I am shitty,” he said, “and I’m still angry.”

She looked at him, assessing him. “I thought you trusted me,” she said. There was a note of hurt in her voice and Eren heard it.

Eren looked at her and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. She huffed and gave him a meaningful look. He smiled a little and put his hand back in his pocket. “I do, Mikasa,” he said and meant it, “I’m sorry, but this is just something I don’t want you to know because you’ll worry. And I don’t want that,” he gestured with his chin to the car that had just stopped outside the gate, “your dad’s there. See you tomorrow.”

Mikasa didn’t move for a moment and then sighed. “See you tomorrow.”

Then she walked through the open gates and left with her dad. Eren took the bus and went home, staring at the almost blinding mother-of-pearl sky of the end of the day. He didn’t want anybody to know and was glad Armin had been sensible about it.

* * *

Practice the following day was odd. Eren was as fierce and annoying as usual, his fire was unscarred, but he no longer directed it at Reiner. After so many months of dealing with his targeted rage, it ought to have been noticed. Reiner didn’t comment on it and played as usual, or rather, played as he used to play before Eren came along trying to break his legs. 

Eren’s frostbite was still not completely gone and didn’t go unnoticed by Ymir when she took a closer look at him.

“What’s that on your hands?”

“None of your business,” Eren said and drank his water in silence.

She scoffed. “At least you’re not trying to maim Reiner anymore, which is good because he’s a more valuable player than you will ever be.”

Instead of fighting back as he would have a couple weeks before, Eren just shrugged. Reiner was looking at him and their eyes met for the first time since New Year. Eren gulped his water and looked away. Ymir prided herself in her observational skills for a reason.

“Something happened between the two of you,” she said and smiled that aggravating smile of hers, “wouldn’t say you made up, but something happened.”

“And it’s none of your business,” Eren repeated, putting the water bottle aside and getting up, “don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Watch it,” Ymir said but not hiding how surprised she was, “who do you think you’re talking to, brat?”

“To you,” Eren said, looking up at her, “and I’m asking you to leave me alone.”

“Ymir, leave him alone,” Bert stepped in and looked at his classmate, “he’s not doing anything.”

“I don’t tolerate disrespect from brats,” she said.

“He wasn’t disrespecting you,” Bert confronted her, defending Eren, “you started it. Now leave him alone,” he glanced at the bleachers and Ymir looked there too. Historia was there and waved at her. She grinned and waved back, “I don’t think Historia would be happy to see you fight.”

Ymir snorted. “You’d be surprised,” she said and flicked Eren’s forehead, not strong enough to hurt, just enough to make him frown, “good thing you’re less stupid now. I just wanted to check for myself. Maybe now you can start focusing on playing.”

Eren hesitated before he nodded, despite his frown. Jean was pretty stunned by that. Armin didn’t comment, and Mikasa was staring. She still didn’t know what had made Eren’s attitude change so much.

* * *

Against his better judgement, seeing that Mikasa was upset that Eren wasn’t saying why he was no longer giving Reiner hell, Armin told her over texts a couple nights later. She called him instead of replying.

“Tell me you’re not serious,” she asked instead of greeting him. 

Armin sighed. “I am. My dad can confirm it. Eren would have died if Reiner hadn’t been there.”

Mikasa was silent, sitting at her desk, processing the information as she stared at her unfinished English homework, gripping the plastic pen she’d been using.

“Why were they there?”

“I have no idea,” Armin said. Mikasa fell silent again, “my theory is that Reiner just found him there and helped him.”

“Helped him?”

“He wasn’t wearing a coat or anything warm,” Armin told her, “he’d have frozen to death.”

“What did Reiner do, then?”

“He held him and warmed him up until my dad and I went over to get him. It was Reiner who called me. Eren didn’t have his phone, either,” Armin said, wary.

Mikasa gripped her phone. She knew now why Eren had said she’d worry. That reckless idiot had almost gotten himself killed, “Reiner, of all people.”

“Yeah, I think it, uh, I don’t know, maybe he realised Reiner wasn’t a bad person or something,” Armin tried, “I don’t even know why he doesn’t like him. It’s really uncalled for.”

Mikasa snapped the pen in her hand and threw the bits away. “It’s because Reiner is German,” she said, “it’s because he’s German and _looks_ German. Eren is also German but doesn’t look German. Not what people think of Germans anyway. People think he’s from the Middle East or something,” she’d never told that to anybody, but she was upset, “and people are racist.”

Armin didn’t respond for a moment.

He sounded apologetic when he spoke. “I never thought that could be the reason. Why didn’t he tell us?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Mikasa snapped, “You said it yourself. You didn’t think that could be the reason. And you didn’t think it because you’re white and don’t have to think about having a colour. Jean would have laughed because he doesn’t like Eren, and Eren is sensitive to that shit,” Mikasa only cussed when she was seriously pissed, “His mum was Turkish, and he looks like her. I only know this because I’ve been to his house. He has a picture of her in his room.”

“ _Was_?”

“She’s dead.”

“Oh,” Armin muttered, “he shouldn’t have hidden all that…”

“It was his decision,” Mikasa said, not hiding how upset she was, “he’s prideful. He didn’t want anybody’s pity. And you better keep this to yourself, just like I’ll keep what you just told me to myself.”

“I will,” Armin promised immediately, “nobody will hear a word of it.”

“Good,” Mikasa said coldly, then, “thanks for telling me. That explained it all. I understand why Eren didn’t want me to know now.”

“I thought you should know,” Armin said, “since you’re his best friend and, uh, well, you were upset.”

Mikasa sighed and pulled another pen from her penholder. “I was and still am, but it’s alright. I’m going to finish my homework now.”

“Ah,” Armin gasped, “uh, I was wondering if you could give me a hand with it. I don’t get this Iambic pentameter thing.”

Mikasa explained it to him, and when he got it, he thanked her, and they hung up. 

Eren was reckless when he was angry, so it didn’t really surprise Mikasa that he’d done something so stupid. But why had Reiner been there?

* * *


	4. The boy who had fire and wasn’t afraid of gunpowder

* * *

Eren no longer hated Reiner, but there was a bit of residual animosity left behind by months of stupidly hating him. Coach Mike was happy to see the change, even if Eren and Reiner didn’t interact with each other off the pitch. Ymir congratulated him on learning to use the potty all be himself instead of shitting his pants, like a big boy. Eren decided to ignore that one.

Reiner and Eren made a great front, with Eren as the hooker. He was lighter than Bert, the other prop, and he had a powerful jump. Before that, even when they played against other teams, Reiner simply wouldn’t lift Eren because he knew it’d end up making him turn against him and forget they had a scrum to win. Sometimes Bert would lift him, but he wasn’t as sturdy as Reiner, and they were both tackled more than once. 

They had their first official game on the third week of January. Eren caught the ball. Reiner saw the opposing front come for the attack and saw his teammates run to the other side, and without thinking much, he went in and held Eren, lifting him up. He felt him tense up in his arms, but he didn’t act up. They were tackled, and Reiner didn’t go down. Eren threw the ball to Ymir, who scored.

That was a game where Reiner noticed three things about Eren Yeager. The first was that he’d evolved as a player and was now rightfully allowed to stand on the pitch with them. The second was that he was heavier than he’d thought he’d be because his body was pure muscle. And the third was that his eyes looked beautiful when he smiled at him, honest and without hate or anger, when they won the game.

Reiner smiled back but only for a second before the team joined in for a victory hug.

The thought didn’t leave his mind, and he hated it because it made the things he’d been trying to repress come back to the surface. Maybe it was just because he had beautiful eyes, he reasoned. He was still the same annoying guy who’d been making his life more difficult and disliked him for no reason. And he was kind of small. But Reiner caught himself stealing glances at him when nobody was seeing and wondering what it would be like to talk to him. He saw that he and his friends looked like a real group of friends now, and he saw Eren joke and laugh with them, despite the occasional outburst of temper. 

Reiner had known for a while that he preferred boys over girls. He thought that if he tried hard enough, he could control that. Turned out that he couldn’t because it didn’t work like that. Reiner was thankful that Eren was short and looked too boyish. But he had the rampant fire he liked. 

It was with that annoyance that one day at the end of January, after a hard night in his house, and with three hours of sleep on his back, he’d gone to practice. He caffeinated enough to power through the day, but his mind was in a blur.

He didn’t remember exactly how it’d happened. He showered and came out of the showers, put on his pants, and looked for his shampoo, realising he’d left it behind. When he got up from the bench and stepped forward, he collided with Eren, who hadn’t been paying attention to him because he was complaining with Jean. Reiner slipped on the wet floor and tumbled over Eren, who looked at him with wide eyes as they fell. 

All Reiner had time to do was reach one of his arms behind Eren’s head and the other behind his back to break the impact of the fall when they hit the floor, Reiner on top, looking dazed and Eren under him, looking like his soul had left his body. 

The worst part was that as they fell, their lips brushed for a split second. It was enough to make Reiner’s brain short-circuit. He’d never even kissed anybody, and judging by Eren’s face, neither had he. His cheeks turned beet red, and he stared at him. The room was silent. Nobody had noticed the accidental lip brushing but seeing those two so close was sure to make them feel wary.

“What the hell?” Eren finally said. Reiner quickly got away from him and Eren sat up. They got up and stared at each other “Watch where you’re going!”

“It was an accident,” Reiner defended, glaring at him, “I broke your fall, didn’t I? Not my fault you’re short.”

Eren opened his mouth in indignation and clenched his fists. His face and ears were red.

“I’m not short!” he defended, “Don’t make excuses for not seeing where you’re going, jackass!”

Reiner didn’t know, either, how they went from that to just randomly insulting each other as they got dressed. Reiner didn’t go get his shampoo in the end and instead was stood there, getting angrier and angrier. If he hadn’t been so tired, he’d have noticed that by the middle of it, they were arguing incoherently and calling each other names in German, but he didn’t. Then they went outside, and Eren mentioned the lip touch. Reiner scoffed and asked if he was gay, to be so worked-up by that. Eren punched his face in return. Reiner, furious, punched his forehead, and he staggered backwards before charging in again, blood trickling down his face. 

Reiner punched his chest after Eren punched his stomach and then he shoved him, which made him fall and kick him as he did. He had no intention to keep hitting him when he pinned him to the floor and saw the tears in his eyes. Before he could get away from him, Mr. Ackerman had shown up and manhandled him off him. He did it with such power that he was winded and scared when he found himself trapped in his deadly chokehold, unable to breathe. He saw Mikasa grab Eren when he stood up and saw him struggle in her grip. He didn’t know if Eren wanted to keep going or not, he couldn’t breathe, and his vision got blurry. Then he was let go and almost fell, holding his chest and gasping for air. Eren fell on his knees, and he vaguely saw him get smacked by Jean.

Eren needed a moment to be able to speak. He accused Reiner of calling him a slur, but _Schwul_ wasn’t a slur, it just meant gay, and that’s what he was asking him. _Bist du Schwul?_ He’d never call him a pansy. That was probably the first thing that popped in Eren’s mind when he hastily translated what he’d called him, probably trying to escape the inevitable detention they’d both have to face. 

“That was really dumb,” Bert told him when they were going to their last class, which was Biology. He hadn’t bled. All he’d been handed was a cold pack to press on his cheek. Eren’s face was covered in blood by the time they dragged him to the infirmary. Reiner hated it.

“I know,” he said and huffed, pressing the cold pack to his face, “I don’t know what got into me.”

“Well, now you’ll find out what happens in detention,” Bert said and shook his head. Annie wasn’t very impressed when she learnt that he’d had a scuffle with Eren and had finally unlocked the lovely achievement of detention with the demon janitor.

He wouldn’t lie - the fear woke him up. When he met Eren in the hallway and saw the anger in his eyes, he decided against apologising, as had been his intention. 

It took Eren sitting beside him and him feeling the smell of cedarwood and the sweat of Eren’s back for him to realise that Eren was praying in German and for it to click. Sort of, anyway. Reiner got upset. Why hadn’t he told him he was German? That was so dumb. Why the hell hadn’t he told him he was German?

When he saw Mr. Ackerman pull out that dreadful flexible pole and the thought of them getting lashed crossed his tired, scared mind, he decided that if that was really the case, he’d take Eren’s lashings. It’d been his fault. And he’d taken lashings before and lived. 

It turned out that the pole was just for intimidation. Then they’d dumbly fell in Mr. Ackerman’s trap and ended up having to do 150 press-ups each. Reiner didn’t know how he managed to do them. Maybe it was the fear; maybe it was the thought that Eren wouldn’t be able to take it. He urged him on in their native language and saw his eyes on him, without anger in them, with nothing but fire. 

By the time he realised that Mr. Ackerman had never meant for them to actually do 150 press-ups each, he was holding Eren upright and being told they were strong and were free to go. 

Eren’s breathing was coming out hoarse. He could hear the pain. He dragged them both up the stairs, and they saw Mr. Smith in the hallway. 

“Oh dear,” he said, walking up to them, “are you alright, Eren?” 

Eren nodded vaguely. Mr. Smith looked at Reiner.

“Are you okay, Reiner?”

“Yes, sir,” Reiner confirmed, despite the sweat they were both covered in, “I’ll look after Eren.”

“Okay,” Mr. Smith smiled warmly, “I do hope the punishment dissuaded you boys from fighting again.”

“It did, sir,” Reiner said and managed a small smile. Mr. Smith waved them off as they walked out of the door into the cold air of the evening. Eren’s brother, Zeke, was waiting outside for him. Reiner didn’t want to let go before apologising, and he didn’t.

 _“Tut mir leid, Eren,”_ he said quietly. Eren looked up at him with those big green eyes and nodded.

 _“Auch mir,”_ he said as he let go of Reiner. His legs were trembling, but he managed to walk to where his brother was. Reiner saw him get in the car and watched them drive off. 

Then he walked home, listening to the Die Ärtze. _Deine Schuld._ Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t.

* * *

Eren wasn’t thinking about the shower room accident of his own accord. It was only that his muscles were sore, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He sat in the bathtub, and the relaxing warm water made him fall asleep. He woke up with a start, unable to breathe, with thoughts of the accident and detention on his mind. 

He drained the water and carefully got out. His brother had told him to take ibuprofen for the pain, but he refused and instead ate the porridge he’d made him and went to bed. 

What had done it for him had been the way Reiner had just started yelling at him in German. It hadn’t been a way to call him names in a language he wouldn’t understand. He could tell he’d just started shouting at him in German because he was angry. Eren had shouted back in German, and they kept yelling at each other until Reiner asked him if he was gay after he yelled that he didn’t want his stupid lips near his ever again. 

Eren didn’t know why it’d pissed him off so much to hear that, but that made him lose his temper completely and go in for the punch that landed them both in detention. 

That hadn’t been a kiss at all, Eren reasoned. It hadn’t. Reiner had held him to break his fall, and they’d been at eye-level for a moment. It’d just been a lip brush, nothing else. What annoyed him the most was realising that Reiner’s first instinct when someone was in danger was to protect them. Even if it was him. Who did he think he was? A superhero?

But then he’d apologised, and Eren’s only reaction had been to apologise back. He was stubborn, and it’d been that stubbornness that had made him keep pushing it. Reiner had called him skinny many times, and then, to add insult to injury, he’d called him short. He’d shown him alright; he’d shown him how strong he was. But Reiner had to hold him upright and help him out because he was exhausted. He hated that Reiner was stronger than him and made a mental note to bulk up. He hoped he’d grow taller than him or at least get closer to his height. It was with that thought that he fell asleep.

* * *

Eren didn’t talk about what had gone down in detention, and neither did Reiner. Their friends were left in the dark. Bert wasn’t bothered, and Annie didn’t know about it, because it happened in the pitch or the shower rooms, and she had the MMA club activities. 

The only indication of a truce between them was that, while they weren’t exactly friends, they were now cordial to each other. They also spoke in German to one another. When Jean saw Eren chuckle at something Reiner had said, and Reiner smiled in return, he just had to ask. 

“I didn’t know you and Reiner were friends now,” Jean asked him in the break between their afternoon classes that day.

Eren was munching on a whey protein energy bar. “We’re not,” he said with a shrug.

“You were laughing at something he said though,” Jean pointed out, staring at him. Armin was a bit wary, but Mikasa was curious.

“Because it was funny,” Eren said, “what do you care, man? It’s none of your business, is it? We just sorted our shit out, that’s all.”

Jean blinked. “You did?”

“Yeah, we did.”

“It was after detention,” Connie noted, stepping into their conversation after seeing that it was safe, “told you nobody came out of there the same.”

“I don’t want to know what happened there…” Sasha said and shivered. She meant it. Connie nodded, “I just want to make sure I never end up there. I’m not ready for that kind of drastic change.”

“Same,” Connie said, and then paused thinking a bit as he looked at Eren. He decided to just speak his damn mind, “it was painful to watch you give Reiner a hard time you know?”

His friends paid attention to him. That rang a bell. Eren crumpled the wrapping of his protein bar and put it in his pocket.

“I can imagine,” Eren said, “he’s a good person and I’m a twat.”

“Not just that, I mean, you’re not a twat,” he paused seeing Eren’s look, “okay, maybe a bit,” he snorted. Jean chortled, “what I mean is that, well, shit” he clucked his tongue and rubbed his head, “it’s just that he’s got enough on his plate.” Connie told him.

“What do you mean?” Eren asked, confused.

“Reiner is my neighbour,” he replied, and their friends hummed. They already knew that. Eren didn’t and was surprised at the information, “and his stepfather sucks. Like, sucks really bad. So yeah” he sniffed, “I’m glad you’re not giving him a hard time anymore.”

Eren stared at him in silence. “What does he do to him?” he asked, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

Connie shrugged. “Shouting mostly, really nasty stuff, accusing him of killing his brothers,” he said and then lowered his voice, “both of Reiner’s brothers died when we were younger, just a few months apart from one another,” he said, seeing their shocked looks, “One of them died in late August. The other died on New Year’s Eve.”

“What did they die from?” Jean asked quietly.

Connie shrugged. “My dad said it was, uh, what was it?” he said and raked his brain, “It was a rare congenital lung disease, something like that. I remember that they had trouble breathing.”

“Something inherited from both parents,” Mikasa said. Her dad was a doctor. They looked at her, “both parents must have carried this gene, and while it didn’t affect them, since it’s a recessive gene, they passed it down to them.”

“That sucks,” Jean muttered, “fuck, man, that really sucks. No wonder his stepdad is messed up.”

“It’s no reason to treat Reiner like shit over it though,” Eren said, through gritted teeth.

Jean looked at him and nodded. “I didn’t say it was,” he said. They heard the signal and filed into their room, “I’m just saying I understand it, not that it’s excusable.”

“There’s nothing to understand,” Eren countered, “he’s a piece of shit. Reiner didn’t do anything to deserve that.”

Jean smiled a little, trying to ease the mood. “Now you’re defending him,” he said, “I’m not making fun of you, man, promise,” he said, seeing Eren’s frown, “I’m just happy. Rugby is a lot more fun now.”

“That’s true,” Armin said, “even though I don’t play a lot. It’s not stressful anymore.”

Eren sighed and sat in his place. It wasn’t in the back by the window, no. He sat at the front because he got too distracted if he sat in the back. That day he’d have been especially distracted.

* * *

Eren didn’t forget about that piece of information but didn’t mention it again. He and Reiner weren’t friends, and that was too personal. He told Connie not to repeat what he’d said to them to anybody else. Connie was surprised at how serious he was but said he wouldn’t. 

“I told you because I thought it mattered,” he said, “I hadn’t said before because… well, I didn’t know how you’d react.”

Eren huffed and ate his waffle. They were all sitting at the ice cream parlour by the harbour one sunny Saturday at the beginning of February. 

“You were judging the hell out of him in silence,” Jean said with a light smile, “makes sense, though. I mean, that’s not something to go around telling people. It’s personal.”

“Yeah,” Sasha agreed. She’d gotten both a waffle and big bowl of ice cream with some hot chocolate to go with it, “I mean, maybe he’s just mean, like, um, maybe he just says mean things to him.”

“And that would make it excusable?” Mikasa asked. She’d gotten a latte and no food.

“No,” Sasha said immediately, “what I mean is that… uh, maybe he doesn’t hit him?”

“Again, how would that be better?” Mikasa said, drinking her latte and staring at her. She was in a bad mood because her parents had said she’d have to wait until she was 18 to get a tattoo. It was enough to have all those piercings. A tattoo was a permanent thing, and you had trouble donating blood if you had tattoos. She’d have to make that decision for herself. Later.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know!” Sasha exclaimed, making a face, “I’m just trying to lighten the mood. I don’t want to think of anyone I know getting hurt!”

“Well,” Connie started, “I’ve seen his stepdad, and if we’re going on like, uh, you know, size, Reiner would have to sit down and let himself be hit or something,” he told them.

They were all blissfully clueless about the subject, and the thought that Reiner was bigger than his abuser comforted them. They changed the subject to trivial things. Until Eren noticed the skinheads who’d tried to stab him a couple months back. It'd been a while since he'd seen them.

“Fuck,” he cussed under his breath. His friends looked at him, confused, looking around, “shit, don’t look, don’t look,” he warned them and lowered his face hiding it behind the menu in the middle of the table, “Jean, move a bit to the left,” he asked. Jean did as he was told without questioning. Eren saw them walk right past their table and disappear into the crowd.

He breathed and then got mad. “Why are these fuckers always around here?”

“Okay, what happened just now?” Jean asked. Eren looked at him and put the menu back where it’d been. 

“Skinheads,” Mikasa said flatly, staring at the direction they’d disappeared to.

Armin gasped and looked around. “What?”

“What you heard,” she repeated and looked at Eren, “had you seen them before?”

Eren rubbed his forehead and huffed. His hands were shaking. “Yeah, I had.”

“Did they give you a hard time?”

“I didn’t run,” Eren told her.

“That’s not what I asked,” she said, making a face.

Jean was staring at Eren like he was seeing him for the first time. Sasha and Connie were quiet but not hiding how wary they were, stealing glances at the passers-by.

“I don’t let people look down on me,” Eren said, clenching his fists, “I wasn’t thinking.”

“What happened?” Armin asked quietly, worried. Eren hesitated but decided to tell them. He was slowly learning that sharing your stuff lightened your burden.

“One of them pulled a knife on me,” he said quietly, “this was in maybe October, I don’t remember. I fought back when they called me a slur,” he said and rubbed his eyes, “I thought that was it, but I didn’t run, and then Annie and Berthold showed up and knocked them out.”

“Annie and Berthold?” Armin asked, “Reiner’s friends?”

“Yeah, Reiner’s friends,” Eren confirmed, “I didn’t tell anybody about this.”

“They knocked them out?” Sasha asked and sighed, “I’m so glad they were around, oh God…”

“Annie is in the fight club,” Connie said, and that made Sasha chuckle a little. It wasn’t called that, but they called it that as a joke “what did she do?”

“It was too fast,” Eren said, “I just saw her flying and disarm him. She hit him in the chest with both knees and then kicked the back of his leg. The last thing I saw was her foot slamming against his ear when he was on the floor and a lot of blood. Berthold punched the other in the nose, and that was all he did to knock him out.”

“Berthold looks so calm,” Armin said quietly, horrified.

“His fist is huge though,” Eren said and clucked his tongue, finishing his coffee, “they saved my sorry ass, that’s what they did.”

“I had no idea people like that… were out in the open, attacking random people on the street,” Jean muttered, at last, looking away from Eren, “is this a thing that happens often, Eren?”

Eren looked at him in silence. “Often enough,” he said, “for me to know when it’s going to happen.”

“It’s fucked up,” Jean said quietly and looked at Eren again, “I’m sorry, man.”

Eren scoffed, confused. “What for? You didn’t do anything,” he said, “aside from being annoying.”

“Shut up, alright?” Jean complained and huffed, “I just… I never thought you were, you know, I want to say I don’t see colour but that’s stupid, I do see it, but…” he was struggling to get his feelings across without being ignorant, “I didn’t think about it, especially not about you like…” his pale cheeks turned a funny shade of pink, “goddammit, I just think you’re strong! I never thought you could have any issues with assholes like that. That never crossed my mind.”

For the first time since year 7, Eren smiled at Jean, and there was no anger there. Jean’s cheeks got redder, and he frowned. “Thanks, Jean. You’re annoying, but I like that you just hate me for me.”

His friends erupted into laughter. Even Mikasa chuckled a little at that one. 

“Are you blushing?” Sasha teased Jean with a grin. He made a face and shook his head, eating the rest of his ice cream.

Eren wasn’t lying, though. It was a light-hearted comment to ease the mood, but he meant it. If people were going to hate him, let it be for his personality.

Later that day Eren texted Jean for the first time in three years. He apologised for setting fire to his science project. In return, Jean sent him a voice note and told him,

“I’m sorry for saying you’re adopted. I knew you’re not. Sorry, I’m sending you a voice note also. The touch screen’s acting up, uh, just needed to say that.”

* * *

Jean and Eren became friends again after that, and that didn’t go unnoticed. They still annoyed each other, but it was in a friendly, consented kind of way. It was just lad banter. It was fun. 

The second week of February rolled around, and with it came St. Valentine’s day. Eren didn’t like that holiday if he were being honest. And not because he thought he wouldn’t get anything. He didn’t want to get anything. It was embarrassing and stupid. Why did people need a holiday to muster up the guts to tell other people they liked them? If it was between people who were already dating, then fine, cool. If it was a friend’s thing, then great. But waiting until then to tell someone you fancied them? That was a dumbass move, and he wasn’t for it at all. 

Mikasa was the most popular out of their group. She spent the day getting boxes of chocolate and letters from guys and girls alike. That meant they all got to eat a bunch of chocolate because she had a nut allergy. Jean, the absolute dumbass, had gotten her expensive chocolate and forgotten about her allergy. It was the kind of expensive chocolate that nobody liked. It had some runny stuff in it. Armin, the picky eater, had been the only one who liked it, which said everything about both him and the chocolate. Jean had had the decency not to give her a letter and get some chocolate for everyone. 

He wasn’t sleek at all, and Eren had had a blast but thanked him for the chocolate. Connie got Sasha a massive, 2-pound box of chocolate, and she was so happy that she kissed him fully on the lips. 

“Damn,” he was redder than her hair when his voice returned, “if you’re gonna do that, warn a guy, won’t you?” 

What would come out that, only time would tell. Sasha had laughed and apologised but her cheeks were also red. At the end of the day, Eren was tired of the stupid giddy energy of that holiday, and all he wanted was to go home. All the chocolate made his bowels act up. He needed to ask for a hall pass to go to the loo in the middle of the first class after lunch.

He was turning a corner after returning from the loo when he heard them. He stiffened when he heard Mr. Ackerman’s voice and stayed there behind the wall, without making noise. 

“What if someone shows up?” Mr. Ackerman was saying, “I’ve spent the day telling kids to go back to class. Damn assholes trying to put shit in each other’s lockers. And the bins full of their letters.”

He heard Mr. Smith chuckle lightly. “Try to get into the spirit, Levi. It’s a day to celebrate love. And I’m not doing anything,” he said, “I’m just talking to you. Unless you’d like to kiss me? Maybe you’re too afraid of being caught.”

Eren’s heart raced, and his face flared up. _What?_

“You’re too much into the spirit of this dumb holiday,” Mr. Ackerman complained. Eren knew he shouldn’t have been so bold and daring, but he couldn’t believe his ears. He peeked around the corner just in time to see it. 

Mr. Smith was leaning against the glass window of the hallway that led into the courtyard. The sunlight was pouring in. Mr. Ackerman stood on his toes and kissed Mr. Smith on the lips. Eren needed to go back to class, but his heart was pounding too hard, and he thought he was hallucinating something weirdly specific. He looked away and then looked again to confirm it. Mr. Smith had leant over to angle the kiss better and had crossed his arms behind Mr. Ackerman's back to support him because he was wearing those yellow gloves.

He’d never seen two men kissing in person. Maybe that wasn’t the reason why it was so powerful, he decided as he blindly walked away; maybe it was because it was those two men in particular.

Eren was tiptoeing out of there when he walked by his locker and noticed something he hadn’t noticed before. Something was poking from under it. Eren pulled it out with trembling fingers, and a feeling of dread and mild annoyance washed over him. Who the hell had written him a letter?

It wasn’t a letter, though; it was just a folded piece of paper. 

When Jean suggested that him a Reiner were a likelier match than Mr. Ackerman and Mr. Smith when he told them what he’d seen in that empty hallway, he’d gotten upset and embarrassed but hadn’t shared the contents of that piece of paper. 

When he got home, he sat at his desk and smoothed the piece of paper in front of him.

All it said was, 

_Du bist Schießpulver und ich bin verrückt._

And there was a phone number under it. Eren was both amused and embarrassed. He texted the number and asked him if he was so scared of gunpowder that he’d forgotten how to give people his number the normal way. The reply was the fire emoji.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The note reads: 
> 
> You're gunpowder, and I'm crazy.


	5. Finding home: I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very few people aside from Germans think of German as a language of love, but it is. It is as much of a love language as any other language.

* * *

Very few people aside from Germans think of German as a language of love, but it is. It is as much of a love language as any other language. Reiner liked to have someone to speak it with, and that, more than anything, had been the reason he’d given Eren his number. The note had been scribbled hastily on a sheet of paper that he ripped from one of his notebooks. Then he found his locker and slipped it under it. 

Then Eren texted him that light-hearted message, and he’d been relieved. They didn’t text all the time, but sometimes they did. Mostly, they sent each other memes and songs in German. 

For the first time in a long time, he felt happy. The dissociation at home got to him, still, but then he’d look at a funny meme, and it’d be a little more bearable. Eren didn’t know how much it meant to him to have someone to speak the language of his heart to. 

Reiner was aware that he was crushing on gunpowder boy. Eren had changed in the last couple of months, as it goes when you’re young, and he’d just fell right into his explosive, whimsical pace. But Reiner would be 18 that year, and the thought scared him. For one, he’d be legally an adult, and maybe he’d be able to find a job and get the hell out of the house he lived in, but then he’d be three years older than Eren. 

The stupidity of his thought process hit him like a brick when he got the invitation for Eren’s birthday party on the 30th of March. 

“What’s with that face?” Annie asked, looking at him. They were all sitting outside in the courtyard under the big tree, again eating Bert’s mum’s food.

“I’m… stupid,” Reiner muttered and shook his head, putting his phone away.

“You are,” Annie agreed, “but why in particular?”

“I thought I’d be three years older than Eren when I turned 18,” he confessed. Annie deadpanned at him. Bert snorted so violently some rice shot out of his nose, and he almost choked.

“You’re barely two years older than him,” Annie said, slapping Bert’s back, “that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“Probably,” Reiner said, “no wonder I’m failing maths.”

“I’m taking the sound system,” Bert said and drank a bit of water and glancing at Reiner.

“I’ll get the music,” Reiner said quietly, “I think he might like my music.”

He was sure he would but didn’t tell them that.

* * *

It all changes fast when you’re so young. First, it's the body, then the mind. Usually, it’s a mess of both. Eren worked hard to make the changes more apparent than they ought to have been because when he had a goal, he saw that he reached it. 

He’d decided that he’d grow. There wasn’t much to do about his height, but he hoped he’d at least be as tall as his father and brother. The bulking up bit he did on his own. Whey protein was his best friend the months preceding his 16th birthday. And even more so in the ones following it.

It was the first time he had a party thrown for him. It was already warm enough for an outdoor party, so his closest friends arranged for him to have a party at the beach. They called in all their teammates, and Ymir brought her girlfriend Historia. Armin’s dad drove him, Mikasa, and Armin to the beach by the abandoned lighthouse on the bluffs. It was a popular place to have parties, and you had to make a reservation even though you brought your own food and drinks.

“No alcohol,” Mr. Arlert warned, “if I smell alcohol in any of you, I’m telling your fathers.”

But they knew he wouldn’t. Armin’s father was about as soft as his son, personality-wise. If they decided to drink, he wouldn’t say a damn word about it.

Their friends were told to bring food and drinks as well. There was a lot of food and drinks. Of course, alcohol was there. Their teammates who were over 18 had brought in a load of crates of beer. Ymir had filled the back of her beat-up 1992 Honda Accord with it. Historia was happily underage drinking as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Eren was greeted with a mosh pit and cries of ‘happy birthday, dipshit!’. Bert brought in a stereo and powerful JBL speakers to connect to it. It was playing German music, and Eren realised that he knew those songs. Annie was sitting with Bert, both of them drinking beer as well.

“Don’t ever say we don’t like you, you little shit,” Ymir said, pulling him to his feet after they’d almost smothered him to death and made him eat a mouthful of sand, “look at all these people who love you.”

“Or love food,” Eren said, spitting sand and choking on it, “did you actually bring beer?” 

“Who do you think I am?” she grinned, “of course, I did. Reiner doesn’t want to have any though, he’s playing good boy this evening, I guess.”

Eren looked over to where Reiner was sitting with a perfectly legal can of Sprite by the sound system. He hadn’t joined the mosh pit, but when his eyes met Eren’s he smiled and got up to go greet him.

 _“Alles Gute zum Geburstag, Eren,“_ he said, looking at him. Eren’s cheeks felt funny and sniffed, rubbing at them. 

He returned the smile. _“Danke, Reiner,”_ he said. He hadn’t thought that Reiner would come even though they were on good terms with each other and sometimes teased each other over text or on the pitch. 

“You can talk in German to each other, but don’t go speaking it to hide shit from us,” Ymir said, slapping Eren’s back. He looked at her. He no longer had to look up to face her. He’d surpassed her height. She didn’t hide how much it annoyed her.

“It just means happy birthday and thank you, Ymir,” Armin said, appeasing. 

“I knew that. Their dumb body language gave it away,” she said, “I expected at least a hug since now they’re, as the kids say, _homies._ ”

“Ymir, you’re still a kid,” Historia said softly beside her, looking up at her, “you’re a big baby girl.”

“And you love me for that,” Ymir grinned. She picked up her girlfriend and twirled her around, making her laugh, “Wee! Tiny girl merry-go-round!”

“How much has she had to drink before we got here?” Armin asked, a bit concerned. 

Jean snorted. “I’ve seen her down two beers,” he told them, “I don’t think she’s drunk. She’s just like that with Historia.”

They saw both girls fall on the sand and laugh at their own silliness. Eren smiled and looked at the stereo and the speakers, which were blasting Rammstein. He looked at Reiner, who looked kind of airy. It was clear that it was his playlist and his phone plugged into that stereo. Who else would have an all-German songs playlist on their phone and know what songs he liked?

Eren was stood there a while, watching him and enjoying Die Ärtze’s _Schrei nach Liebe -_ a personal favourite - when the song changed. Nena started singing _Irgendwie, irgendwo, irgendwann_. Reiner gasped and ran to it. Eren didn’t know what had gotten into him but sprinted to the stereo as well and stopped him before he got hold of his phone.

“It’s a good song,” Eren said, looking up at him, “what’s the matter? I like Nena.”

Reiner’s face turned red, and he rubbed his neck. “It’s, uh, it’s cheesy, isn’t it?”, he asked. 

Eren chuckled and shrugged. “Nobody knows that but you and me,” he told him, “I like it."

Reiner smiled awkwardly and shrugged. “I’m glad you like it,” he said over the sound, “I knew some of your favourites but...”

“You sure you don’t need a beer, Reiner?” Annie asked, looking up at him from where she was laying on the sand.

“Yes,” Reiner said and gripped the can of Sprite he was still holding. Eren noticed his tensing jaw. “I’m fine with soda.”

That made Eren stick to soda as well. And he was stubborn. Nobody could talk him into drinking ‘ _because it’s your birthday_ ’. Reiner wasn’t drinking, so he wasn’t either and that was that. 

* * *

The evening was pleasant, but it started getting cold when the sun set completely and the only lights were the colourful festoon strings that dangled above them, twinkling like the stars above. 

More people were drunk than they’d like to account for, dancing to music they didn’t understand. 

“It’s the vibes,” Ymir said, jamming out to Rammstein’s _Engel_ as Historia lost her mind laughing. Someone had brought in weed. Now they were both drunk and high and Reiner looked like he was about to combust.

“Is everything alright with him?” Annie asked an almost sober Bert. He’d had two beers and stuck to sodas for the rest of the night. 

“Probably triggered,” Bert said mildly, “can’t be sure.”

“Triggered,” she said staring at Reiner’s wide back, his hair looking like it was crackling with electricity under the festoon lights, “because of the shit he won’t tell us?”

“Yeah,” Bert confirmed and crumpled another can of soda, throwing it on a pile they’d been making, “it’s his decision. But sounds like that could be it.”

“Where are you going?” Annie asked, watching him get up.

“Need to pee,” he said.

“Think I may try to skinny dip. Maybe he’ll look at me,” Annie said with a wry smile. She was pretty drunk already.

“Suit yourself, then,” Bert said mildly, but his jaw tightened, and his cheeks got red before he said, “make sure you take everything off. I may have to go collect you.”

Annie snorted and lay on the sand. “Oh, he’s getting kinky, guess I really was wrong about you.”

One of their teammates had the grand idea that they should go for a dip in the water. Reiner prevented anyone from going near it, yelling at them and telling them they’d fucking die because the water would be freezing. Eren had fun at that messy party they’d thrown for him, but he noticed how tense and stressed Reiner was. It’d started getting worse when everyone’s drunken behaviour got out of hand. Nobody could go past him. He stood like a boulder by the sea, stopping them from going in the water. Jean turned out to be a sleepy drunk and had been dozing on the sand by the barbecue pit, where it was warmer, for the last half hour.

Mikasa hadn’t drunk anything other than sodas, and neither had Armin, but they took a couple hits of weed. Eren didn’t know who’d brought it, but well, it was a thing, wasn’t it? It was almost midnight when Reiner shooed everyone away and told them to call Ubers and go home. Ymir was drunk, and Historia wasn’t much better.

Reiner swore and complained loudly in German at their irresponsibility before switching to English. “How the fuck are you going to go back like that?”

“Chill out, man,” Ymir said, swaying and laughing, “we can just, uh, sleep in the car or something.”

“The night is freezing!” he exclaimed as everyone started filing out of the beach after calling their rides. Bert put the stereo and the speakers in the boot of Ymir’s car. The silence made them realise the seriousness of the situation.

“Reiner, it’s fine, I’ll drive,” Bert said.

Reiner looked at him like he’d grown 200-feet. “You don’t have a license,” he told him, “and weren’t you drinking, too?”

“I had two beers, I’m not drunk,” he promised and did the four on the sand, “see? I’m fine to drive.”

“Berthold, you don’t have a license,” Reiner repeated heatedly, “that’s madness.”

“But I can drive,” Bert said, “I promise, Reiner, I can drive. You know my mum’s a terrible driver, I had to learn to help her.”

Reiner pondered and huffed. “And what if you’re caught by the cops?”

“That won’t happen,” Annie said with a snort and patted Reiner’s arm, “you’re too tense. Relax, it's over. No more drunk fuckers to trigger you."

“Yeah,” Bert said appeasing, patting Reiner’s arm, “you can relax now, Reiner.”

Reiner looked up at him and huffed as he watched them get in the front seat of Ymir’s Honda. Ymir and Historia were already sloppily making out on the backseat. 

“I promise, Reiner,” Bert said, “I’ll let you know when everyone’s home, alright?”

Reiner sighed. “Fine, fine, okay. Drive safe.”

Bert nodded and drove off. The only people left behind were Mikasa, Armin, and Eren. Jean had shared an Uber with Sasha and Connie, and they’d all spend the night at Sasha’s, where it was easier to get away with underage drinking.

Only Armin, Mikasa, Eren, and Reiner were left behind. Armin was amazed at the magnificence of the lighthouse and was reciting an incoherent Ode about it that he was making up as he went. Mikasa had dug a hole to catch a terrified little crab and was holding it and laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. She took a picture of it that would turn out splendid, no doubt, what with the shaking hand. Armin had already taken a bunch of pictures with no flash.

Eren wasn’t high or drunk, and he didn’t know what to say to Reiner, who didn’t seem like he was going anywhere before making sure everyone was safe. Because that was just the kind of person he was. And it was frustrating.

“Who’s coming to get you?” he asked Eren. 

“Armin’s dad,” Eren told him, “who’s coming to get _you_?”

 _“Niemand, ich gehe zu Fuß,”_ Reiner said back.

Eren made a face and switched to German too. _“You’re walking? I know you live near Connie. That’s too far away. You can come with us. There’s space for you.”_

Reiner looked at him a bit surprised and opened his mouth. Eren didn’t let him say anything.

 _“You’re coming with us, and that’s that,”_ Eren said and pulled his phone out of his pocket to find the number. He looked at Reiner as he brought the phone to his ear, _“It’s alright for you to arrive now, right?”_

Reiner was silent for a moment then nodded, uncertainly.

Eren called Mr. Arlert, and he went to get them. Reiner sat at the front with him, and Eren took the backseat with Armin and Mikasa. They were lucky Mr. Arlert didn’t know what weed smelled like. Reiner was both awkward and good at lying because when Mr. Arlert asked if there’d been soup at the party, he’d not only said yes but also said he’d taken it himself. Special German recipe. The greenest soup. Mr. Arlert had been happy to speak to him in German and asked him where he’d lived in Germany. Eren heard for the first time that Reiner had come from Hamburg. Mr. Arlert reminisced about how beautiful the Elbe River was there, especially in Altona, on the right side of the river.

Eren was anxious when they stopped by Reiner’s house and watched him look warily at it. The lights were off. Reiner sighed almost imperceptibly and then smiled.

 _“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Arlert,”_ he said to him. Then looked back at Eren and was momentarily silent, staring at him.

 _“Text me later,”_ Eren said quietly. Reiner nodded vaguely and opened the door. He closed it without making noise and waved at them. Eren waved back. Armin and Mikasa had sobered up by then and were just kind of hungry then. They waved back. Eren saw Reiner stood on the street watching the car disappear.

* * *


	6. Finding home: II

* * *

Eren would text Reiner or, hell, he’d _call him_ if he didn’t let him know he was alright. 

“Why do you look so tense?” Mikasa asked as they sat in the kitchen with some sandwiches. Eren had some hot milk because he didn’t have the munchies. They’d gotten away with having a snack before bed, claiming that everyone had eaten a lot and they hadn’t had much to eat.

“Because I am,” Eren replied.

“Reason?”

“Reiner,” Eren whispered, putting both hands on the mug for comfort. 

“Reiner?” Armin asked through his food, “sorry,” he swallowed, “why are you anxious about him?”

Eren shrugged and huffed. “I don’t know. I don’t want him to get in trouble with his shitty stepfather.”

“I hope he doesn’t…” Armin muttered.

Mikasa looked at Eren as she chased her sandwich with some milk. “Do you like Reiner?”

It was a straightforward question, like all of Mikasa’s questions, but Eren didn’t know what she was asking him. The question he asked in return was a misunderstanding. “What do you think?”

“I think you do,” she said with a smile, “and it doesn’t surprise me that much.”

Eren shrugged and got up from the stool, seeing that they were all done with their munchies snack.

He crashed over at Armin’s place with Mikasa. Armin’s mum had Mikasa sleep in the guest bedroom. Eren took the floor of Armin’s bedroom. It wasn’t a matter of backwards thinking; it was just that Eren had terrible sleeping habits. The last time he’d shared a bed with Armin, he’d pushed him off the bed in his sleep. Mikasa wasn’t about to let that idiot do that to her, and Armin surely didn’t want it again.

The floor was fine. Armin’s dad got out a mattress and a couple of blankets. 

Armin was asleep almost as soon as he lay in his bed. Eren lay on the mattress looking at his phone, feeling stupid for worrying so much but worrying anyway.

His heart raced when he saw a notification pop on the screen but got mad that it was just spam for gardening supplies - **‘ _Do you need a cheap HOE?_** _’ -_ and he cussed under his breath. He was deleting it when he got the notification he was waiting for. His heart raced, and he sighed.

**_“Still up?”_ **

Eren was happy to get that text but remembered how long he’d taken to reply.

_“Is everything alright?”_

**_“It is”_ **

**_“Why are you asking?”_ **

Eren didn’t respond immediately. He wasn’t supposed to know about the problems he might have at home. But what did that fucking matter? The thought of Reiner being given a hard time because of him sent him into a rage. Ironic? Yes, but it was what it was. People change their minds all the damn time.

_“I don’t want to think you got in trouble bc of that stupid party”_

**_“It wasn’t stupid, I enjoyed it”_ **

_“Reiner, you were upset the whole night”_

**_“I wasn’t upset”_ **

_“Stressed then”_

Reiner didn’t respond immediately.

**_“Maybe I was stressed. Don’t worry about it. It was good. I’m glad you liked the music”_ **

Eren sighed deeply and clucked his tongue. He had liked the music and he’d been happy that he’d gone. 

_“You shouldn’t hide stuff from people, you know?”_

**_“You also hide stuff from people”_ **

_“I’m working on that. I’m talking about you”_

**_“You didn’t tell me you were German”_ **

There it was, the subject Eren had been avoiding because even he knew his reasons had been stupid. Sure, he’d had reasons, but they’d been unreasonable. His answer was defiant.

_“I haven’t told you I’m German, either”_

**_“You sound like you’re from Leipzig”_ **

Eren was surprised that he’d guessed it. But then Eren was terrible with accents. He had no idea what Hamburg’s German sounded like, but he understood Reiner when they spoke German. That’s what mattered. And they were texting in German, but Eren was mildly annoyed that Reiner had deflected the subject to him.

_“That doesn’t mean I’m German”_

**_“You’re not then?”_ **

_“No, I am”_

**_“Then why are you saying you’re not?”_ **

_“I’m not saying that!”_

Reiner took a full minute to reply, and there it was.

**_“I thought you didn’t like Germans when we met”_ **

**_“It hurt”_ **

The honesty caught Eren off guard and felt like a well-deserved punch in the gut.

_“It hurt?”_

**_“Yeah”_ **

_“I’m sorry. I promise now I just find you annoying when you show off”_

**_“When I show off?”_ **

Eren regretted saying that and blamed it on the late hour and how tired he was.

_“When you lift me”_

Reiner didn’t respond for a hot minute, and Eren was kind of worried. He didn’t want him to stop lifting him.

**_“If you want me to stop doing that, I can but it’ll be bad for the game”_ **

_“I know”_

**_“You’ve gotten heavier lately”_ **

**_“And taller”_ **

**_“I guess I do show off because you’re heavy and I can still lift you easily”_ **

Eren widened his eyes at the screen and felt the grin bloom on his face.

_“I don’t mind you lifting me. It’s better than when Bert does it because he’s too tall”_

**_“Bert’s a good player and his height is an advantage but he’s not very strong when he’s tackled. He can punch hard though”_ **

_“I know”_

Eren regretted saying that as soon as he hit send.

**_“I know you do”_ **

He should have known that Reiner had heard about that since they were his friends and all. He was still quite annoyed. 

_“Annie and Bert told you?”_

Reiner took a moment to reply.

**_“Yes, they did, don’t get mad at them”_ **

_“I won’t, they saved me”_

**_“I just want to ask you if that’s the reason you disliked me. Did you think I was like those people?”_ **

Eren felt he’d been punched for the second time. _No, the reason was stupid, Reiner, h_ e thought in pure dread.

_“It was because you look German, not because of any stereotypes about Germans. It’s a stupid reason, I know”_

Reiner took a bit to reply again.

**_“It is a stupid reason”_ **

_“I know”_

**_“I’m angry”_ **

_“I would be too”_

**_“But it’s also funny”_ **

Eren was taken aback by that one.

_“How is it funny? I was an asshole to you for months because of it”_

**_“Not that, I’m still angry at that. It’s funny because you’re stupid”_ **

Eren might have been sorry, and sure enough, he knew he was stupid, but he was still annoyed at being called stupid.

_“Don’t call me that too many times”_

**_“I know better than to do that, gunpowder boy”_ **

**_“I was happy to have people with German names and then you called my accent stupid”_ **

**_“That hurt because I had to work hard to stop having a German accent when I speak English”_ **

The third metaphorical punch. Eren really felt like the biggest asshole in the world. It caused such a reaction in his body that he thought he’d cry. How could he tell him how much he liked his accent? How could he tell him that when he spoke German, it sounded like the words were coming from his heart? How could he tell him how much he liked to talk to him?

The answer was that he couldn’t. He wasn’t mature enough to face the embarrassment of being honest about his feelings.

_“I’m sorry. I lied. Your accent isn’t stupid”_

**_“I’ll forgive you if you tell me if that happens often”_ **

Eren sniffed.

_“What does?"_

**_“Being harassed by that kind of people”_ **

Eren wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell him, but well, what the hell.

_“Sometimes”_

**_“That’s not enough. Sometimes can be anything”_ **

Eren had to be honest. It didn’t. People commented sometimes, and it was annoying, but violence was rare. The reason why it bothered him so was that it was traumatising. He liked having a colour. He liked to have that memory of his mother on his skin. The trauma of being attacked for looking like the woman who’d made him feel safe and was no longer there to hold him was just too much. He missed her so badly on his birthdays.

_“It doesn’t happen a lot, but it happens enough”_

Reiner didn’t respond immediately.

**_“Is your mum brown like you?”_ **

_“Was”_

Reiner was taking longer to reply, and Eren was glad because his hands were shaking. He sniffled and gritted his teeth, rubbing at his eyes.

**_“I’m sorry to hear that”_ **

Eren’s overflowing emotions made his shaking finger run.

_“I know you also don’t have a dad, and your stepdad is a piece of shit. Connie said his dad hates him. Connie’s dad likes everyone”_

Reiner took so long that Eren thought he would just not reply anymore.

**_“Nobody else knows that. I thought the neighbours didn’t care. That’s why he never came over anymore”_ **

_“More people should know it, moron. Don’t let anybody step on you. You don’t deserve it”_

Reiner read his text but didn’t reply, and Eren was glad that he didn’t. He put his phone aside and breathed heavily. He felt Armin shuffle on the bed and heard it creak. If his phone’s screen hadn’t been on, he wouldn’t have seen Armin’s ghoulish form sit down and take his hands down to his pyjamas bottoms and pull them down.

Eren gasped and scuttled away from where he was standing, aiming.

 _“ARMIN! WACH AUF! PISS MICH NICHT AN!“_ he shouted. Armin woke up startled and tripped on the makeshift bed, falling face-first on the floor. He did not piss on him, but it was a close call.

* * *

Eren didn’t talk to Reiner about their late-night talk and was thankful that he didn’t mention it. Their close, _almost_ friendship kept going steadily and won them the inter-high championship in June. Then summer holidays rolled around, and it was three months of doing fuck-all. Eren met up with the squad a couple times, but as it turned out, they would be going away for a while at some point when their parents were allowed time off work. They talked daily, but the six of them only got to meet on one occasion, and it wasn’t for very long. They just sat around at the beach. Jean decided that he’d get a tan the hard way and ended up with a sunburn so bad, he let Eren rub Aloe on his back while making fun of him. Nobody else was dumb enough to skip on the sunscreen. 

“Think of it like this,” Eren teased, “now you’re three times a cherry, Mr. Cherry Stone.”

“Shut up,” Jean complained, slapping his arm, making him laugh, “I’m never trusting tutorials again.”

They all laughed. Who, on their right mind, would follow the advice of a website that felt like someone had taken 5-minutes-crafts dangerousness, combined it with Troom-Troom’s nonsense, and put a vague WikiHow veneer over it for credibility?

Jean had rubbed a mixture of baby oil and Coca-Cola on his skin. It did exactly what his friends warned him it would – gave him sticky, sugary skin, made him smell like a baby’s bum, and fried him right up. Nobody wanted to touch his bright red skin. Mikasa said she’d slap him for being a moron. And Eren said he’d be gentle and made good on his promise.

* * *

Then Eren was on his own most of the summer and hit the gym almost every day. When he wasn’t doing that, he was swimming at sea. And his meals were all filled with all the protein he needed to keep those gains coming. His brother and father were barely around, so he could do whatever the hell he wanted. And he was having fun on his own, and he'd never been more relaxed in his life. He didn’t have much time to mope about being alone and about his confusing thoughts about himself and his feelings for Reiner. 

But the thoughts were there, and they bloomed like a flowering vine taking root in the deepest of his being. That vine was real, too. It was climbing honeysuckle with fragrant yellow flowers and was now covering most of his window. It filled his room with bugs. He sent his brother a text telling him about it, but the asshole said he should get rid of it himself - it shouldn’t be hard. 

“Then tell me how to do it, shithead,” he grunted at his phone. He didn’t bother telling his father about it. All the old bastard was good for was sending him money and showing up every blue moon to remind him that yes, he still had a father. 

Eren decided to pop by the hardware store on the way to the gym. He walked into the store, already preparing himself to be confused about everything the man behind the counter might have to say about how to get rid of vines. Reiner was there. He was speechless for a hot second, staring.

Reiner didn’t seem to be struggling to find what he needed and had a wicker bag to put all the stuff he went there to get. What shocked Eren was how ridiculously attractive he looked then. For one, he was shimmering under a thin layer of sweat, and then he had on a white sleeveless top. When Reiner noticed his presence there, he blinked and smiled a little, walking over to him.

“Hey,” he greeted him. Eren looked at his chest for longer than it would have been appropriate.

“Sorry, I was distracted by your chest,” Eren dumbly said and then blinked, realising he’d said it out loud when Reiner flushed red, “shit, that’s fucking weird,” he cleared his throat and rubbed his forehead, “you’ve been hitting the gym, too?”

“I can see that you have,” Reiner said awkwardly, looking away, “nice runner shorts.”

Eren didn’t see anything wrong with his comment and kept talking. “How come you’re so…” he said. He gestured with his hands in front of his own chest and then his biceps, not wanting to say it there, looking Reiner in the eyes. Sure, he felt like a dick for embarrassing Reiner with his big mouth, but he didn’t take it back, “you know. You were already big, but that’s just _offensively_ big,” he said and snorted. Reiner looked confused along with the embarrassment, “in a good way,” Eren added.

“In a good way,” Reiner repeated and then sighed, shaking his head, “no, I haven’t been going to the gym. I’ve been working construction.”

Eren’s mind was filled with imagery of Reiner, in that sleeveless top, working construction, and the temperature of that scorching July day rose suddenly.

“That’s cool, I guess,” he said, “I’m a privileged bum who doesn’t have to work,” he added and grinned but then remembered that they were at a hardware store and why he’d gone there, “you’re here to get tools, then?”

“Yeah, some of them were missing. The guys keep taking them,” Reiner told him, “what are you doing here?”

“There’s a vine, a huge one, it’s covering most of my window and filling my room with bugs,” he told him and sighed, “I hope they can help me here because it’s annoying.”

Reiner raised an eyebrow. “A vine?”

Eren chuckled. “A plant, Reiner, not a meme,” he said, and Reiner snorted before nodding, “it has big yellow flowers. It’s got more of them than usual.”

“Oh, I see,” Reiner said and then sighed, checking the time on his wristwatch, “I have to pay and go back.”

“Sure,” Eren said and nodded. Then they walked to the counter. Reiner paid up, and Eren watched him linger a bit. He quickly asked the shopkeeper to tell him how to get rid of a vine. Cutters, since he didn’t want to permanently kill it. Just get rid of the excess. Eren got them and paid for them. He followed Reiner outside and they stood together on the bustling pavement, close to the glass door of the shop. Eren smiled at him, happy that he didn’t have to look up as much anymore. “Sorry for being weird. I just, how can I put this, maybe I’ve become a bit of a fan of you know…” he said and gestured with his hands in front of his chest and arms again, smiling. He saw Reiner smile and couldn’t believe how bloody adorable he looked, all flushed cheeks and awkwardness, with his big arms and impressive chest.

“It’s fine,” he said and sniffed, shuffling from one leg to the other, “you’re looking, uh, you’re also looking great. Your legs look... nice,” he said awkwardly, “I need to go.”

Eren grinned. “Okay, talk later?”

“Talk later,” Reiner said vaguely, “bye.” 

“Bye!” Eren waved him off, watching him jog to the other side of the street.

He sighed and smiled at his new cutters. That vine wasn’t so bad, he liked the flowers. He just had to trim it a bit to let the sunlight in and get rid of the bugs.

* * *


	7. Finding home: III

* * *

The fact that Eren came to the spectacular conclusion that he was bi because of how horny he was for his beautiful German _almost_ friend came as a surprise to none. Not even his father, to his great dismay. Maybe he should have told him about what he wanted to do to Reiner in excessive detail.

Out of pure spite, he texted his father that he was bisexual, if anything, to see if he’d have a negative reaction and gave him a reason to punch his glasses into the bridge of his nose. Old Grisha called him, which was about as surprising as his reaction would get.

 _“I’m proud of you, Eren,”_ his father said to him evenly, _“I love you unconditionally. I’m happy you trusted me.”_

Trust.

The distance between Eren and his father was the Grant Canyon at that point, each standing one side of the abyss. Eren hated that he felt like Evel Knievel.

Eren scoffed. “ _You’re okay with it?”_ he asked. Eren used the formal you with his father when they spoke in German.

_“I am.”_

_“You don’t find the idea of me sucking dick appalling and disgraceful, then?”_ he provoked, being crude on purpose, gripping his phone.

Grisha was quiet for a moment, and Eren thought he had it now he’d surely be angry at him.

 _“If it makes you happy to do that and it’s someone you like, then no, I don’t think it’s any of that,”_ he said at last. Eren heard him sigh and wanted to throw his phone across the room, _“I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you, Eren.”_

 _“Yeah, whatever,”_ Eren said back, the resent pouring from each syllable, _“At least you’re fine with it. Guess I’m lucky for that one. Thanks for calling.”_

 _“Don’t thank me, Eren, you’re my son,”_ his father said quietly. The note of sadness in his voice was all that Eren got to feel just a little bit avenged. He told his brother next, who sent him a whole thumbs-up sticker, not even bothering to open the text.

He texted his friends the news on their group chat like it was nothing at all. That’s where he got proper reactions.

**Eren’s Support Group**

_Eren: what’s good, friends, I’m here to let you all know that I’m bi_

Jean was the first to respond.

_Jean: shut up, as if_

_Eren: I’m serious, asshole, it took all of my courage to say this to you_

_Armin: how do you know that?_

_Eren: how tf would I know it. Bitch, im horny for both guys and girls that’s how I know_

_Connie: lmfao valid. That’s cool, bro, glad you’re comfortable with it_

_Sasha: [a meme of a cat with heart glasses]_

_Sasha: good vibes only! I’m happy for you, Eren!_

_Mikasa: I think we should video call._

Eren was beaming like an idiot when they were all on the screen. Jean looked like he was still suspicious with the Eiffel Tower behind him.

“Oh, look at Mr. Chic,” Eren said, pointing at him, “judging me with a landmark behind him.” 

“Shut up, I’m wasting mobile data for this,” Jean said, “and you’re not serious.”

“Why are you so hellbent on that?” Eren said, losing his patience, “I wouldn’t joke about this, asshole.”

“He’s a new man, Jean,” Connie said with a smile, “it’s all that whey protein. It calms you down while bulking you up.”

Eren chortled. “Need to check that one,” he said, “pretty sure it wasn’t it that made me bi, though.”

Sasha lost it at the comment. “Don’t let anybody hear that! They may cancel it!”

“This just in – whey protein makes you bisexual!” Connie added. They laughed, and he finished his joke, “Good Christian families caught with pitchforks and torches claiming whey protein made their kids bi!”

“Guess they’d have to go through all the ripped bisexual whey addicts, then,” Armin said, and Eren pointed at him, “Eren is leading the counterattack.”

Mikasa smiled at Eren. “I’m happy for you, Eren,” she said, “it took you long enough to tell us, but thanks for the trust.”

Eren was taken by surprise and blinked. “What? How the hell did you know?”

Mikasa blinked. “Wait, you didn’t know?” she paused and looked at his little square, “You only realised it now?”

Eren was surprised. Everyone else was calm about the whole thing, letting them talk. “Yeah, I mean, yesterday or so, I don’t know, it wasn’t… I wasn’t hiding it,” he said, distraught, “how did you know?”

“But I thought…” she started and then snorted, shaking her head, “maybe I misunderstood something.”

Eren was going to ask what she’d misunderstood when Jean spoke. “Sorry I doubted it, man, I was… uh, I don’t know, I never thought about that possibility.”

“And it bothers you?” Eren asked. Nobody spoke, waiting for Jean’s reaction.

Jean shook his head and snorted. “No, not at all,” he paused and saw everyone sigh, “what? You thought I’d have a problem with it? What the hell!?”

“For a hot moment there, I thought you were about to tell me you loved me,” Eren teased, lightening the mood by annoying Jean and making everyone laugh.

“Shut your muzzle, shithead,” Jean complained, “if I were to get the hots for a guy, it wouldn’t be your annoying ass. I just need to unlearn some shit.”

“Hm, I see,” Eren said and smiled, “what I heard was ‘you’re hot, but I hate your personality’.”

Jean’s face was beet red. “You’re an asshole,” he groused and looked wary when someone called him. He looked at the camera, “I gotta go.”

“We can all go,” Mikasa said, “it was just a, well,” she sighed, “a vibe check, really.”

“ _Bi_ -be check,” Sasha joked, and with that iconic joke, they disconnected the call.

Eren got up from his bed and walked up to the window. It was now flooding his room with sunlight.

* * *

On the first day of August, at the beach, he saw Reiner by himself. Eren stood there thinking about what to tell him when he went over to say hi. ‘Hello, I had a sexual awakening thanks to you’ or better ‘hello, I think your tits are hot’. The truth was that while he’d changed and grown up a bit and had found a way to control his anger issues, he was still pretty stupid. The difference was that now he knew it. A self-aware dumbass.

Reiner had gotten a nice golden tan, and Eren wondered how often he’d been working shirtless because he didn’t really have tan-lines on his torso. He did have them on his legs. The contrast between tanned and pasty white was as funny as it was attractive. And he was on his own. 

“Hey,” Eren said, smiling. _Nice one Eren, not weird,_ “you look like a snack.” _Now it’s weird. Fucking hell._

Reiner had been sitting on a yellow towel staring at the sea and jolted when he heard his voice. He looked up to look at him and didn’t speak for a moment, his mouth agape.

“Eren,” he said. Eren put his towel on the sand beside his and sat down. Reiner was staring at him still,“I look… I look like what?” he asked, flushed red.

“A snack,” Eren repeated. Nothing like owning it. He knew Reiner had heard him anyway, “you look fit, really good, eye-candy,” he enumerated and smiled, playing it off, “ _no homo_. It’s a gym thing.”

As it turned out, that was a lie. It was not a gym thing. Not to that extent anyway. Reiner looked like smoke would come out of his ears.

“Sorry for the honesty,” Eren said and yanked off his shirt, putting it aside. Reiner was looking at him and looked away, “what you think?” he asked, flexing a bit and snorting. He was being silly on purpose. “Be honest, come on.”

Reiner looked at him again, silent, as if words had left him, and he was all embarrassment now. Eren’s heart raced and mentally cussed. Nobody should be allowed to be that buff and cute at the same time.

“I think you look beautiful,” he finally said quietly. Eren saw him lick his lower lip and then bite it and his mind went haywire. Reiner wasn’t saying it in German, and well, to his credit, neither was he. And he knew why but why wasn’t Reiner saying it in German either?

“You should have told me you were coming here,” Eren said, “I would have waited to wish you a happy birthday in person, instead of doing it over text,” he said, “unless you didn’t want to see me?”

“I did want to see you,” Reiner said, and he looked like he regretted saying it.

Eren sighed and looked at the sparkling sea, glowing under the sun. It boosted his confidence. “If you wanted to see me, then why didn’t you tell me? You know I’m idle.”

“I know,” Reiner said, “I didn’t want to bother you, that’s all.”

“Bother me? Are you taking the piss? I’m always spamming you with memes and shit. If anyone’s a bother, it’s me,” Eren said.

Reiner looked at him. “You don’t bother me, Eren,” he said softly and then, “not anymore,” he smiled. Eren was happy to see him smile at last.

“And you’re 18 now,” he said. 

Reiner heaved a sigh worth a million. “I am,” he said, “legally an adult. Need to start thinking about life.”

Eren snorted. “You were 17 until a couple hours ago. Shut up.”

“Yeah, but now I can go to normal jail if I fuck up,” Reiner said.

Eren laughed. “Are you planning on becoming a criminal?”

“No!” Reiner exclaimed, shocked, “It’s just… it’s a scary thing.”

Eren shook his head, dismissing that negativity. “Then you have nothing to worry about. Goddammit, it’s your birthday,” Eren said and looked at the sea, “up for some swimming?”

Reiner got up and rolled up his belongings in the towel. He followed Eren into the sea. 

“Oh shit, it’s so cold!” Eren yelled and cackled. Reiner was a lot more stoic than he was, and while it was cold and the temperature hurt a bit, he didn’t do much aside from hissing a little. Then he was pushed in the water and gasped.

“Hey!” he complained, gagging on saltwater, watching Eren laugh, “ah you think it’s funny, shithead?” he got up and whimsically held him, pressing his cold, wet chest against his. 

“Ah, fuck! Shit!” Eren yelped, struggling to get away from him. Reiner laughed heartily and let him go. Eren grinned, overjoyed that Reiner was laughing with him. 

They pushed each other onto the water until the temperature didn’t bother them anymore, and they could swim away from the surf zone. 

The day was sunny and warm, and the quiet sea stretched out, cobalt blue, under the endless summer sky. Eren laughed again when they stopped and let themselves float there, watching the sea, a bit winded.

“It’s so crazy,” Eren said.

“What is?”

“To be here with you,” Eren said, and then, “I think of the sea as my mum, you know?”

Reiner looked at him and mused about it. 

“That means you’re coming back to her,” he said and then grinned, “and that I’m in your mum.”

Eren gasped and pretended that he wanted to drown him. Reiner laughed and held him to pretend he wanted to stop him.

“I’m sorry, it was just too easy,” he said, holding his hands and making him stop, “that’s actually really sweet. I get it now, why you were by the sea,” he said and paused, looking at him,“I think about it… what would have happened if I hadn’t gone there,” he gulped and saw Eren’s expression change, “I wouldn’t have gotten to know you.”

Eren looked at him in silence, not smiling, their eyes locked and holding each other’s arms underwater. Reiner felt his stomach lurch and his heart race. The reflection of the sunlight and the sea in Eren’s eyes and the glimmering saltwater on his skin winded him.

It was Eren who kissed him. Reiner felt the taste of salt and the warmth of his mouth on his and couldn’t react until he could and kissed him back. The warmth of what they were doing pooled in both their chests as they held each other’s faces and kissed for as long as it took to be sure about everything.

“Let’s… let’s go back,” Eren said softly, and Reiner was happy to see him smile, “you’re blushing,” Eren said as if his own face wasn’t red as well.

They lay on their towels in silence as the sun was starting to set, and the other beachgoers were leaving. It wasn’t just them there, but it might as well have been.

“Will you be getting wasted to celebrate tonight?” Eren asked.

Reiner shook his head. “I’ll never drink alcohol.”

“That’s a good decision,” Eren said, smiling at him, “nobody needs alcohol to make reckless decisions.”

Reiner chuckled at that one, but then he realised that Eren was talking about himself. Eren had moved and was now over him, staring down at him, one hand beside each side of his head, looking into his eyes.

“Wasn’t that a reckless decision?” Eren asked. 

Reiner felt his face get warm again seeing those eyes. “Kind of… but not really,” he said quietly, looking up at him, seeing him smile.

“You looked so beautiful with the sun on your face,” he said. Reiner opened his mouth, embarrassed but surprised. He was hearing his own thoughts echoed, “and it felt like you wanted to kiss me. And I wanted to kiss you, so I risked it.”

“You’re braver than I am,” Reiner said in a small voice, then, “ _Ich habe Angst_.”

“ _Hab keine Angst, Reiner_ ,” Eren said, looking into his eyes, and he kissed him again. There was nothing to be afraid of.

Reiner reached a hand up to hold the nape of Eren’s neck and kissed him back. Eren didn’t pull away and slipped him a bit of tongue. He made a small, slightly embarrassing noise, and Eren pulled away, licking his lips and smiling.

“That was a good sound,” he muttered against his lips. Reiner was lost for words, “God, I like you so much.”

Reiner’s heart was racing like mad. The fear he’d felt about his sexuality vanished then, but he had another fear. “Eren, I’m 18 now, this isn’t something we should…”

Eren frowned. His mood shifted, and there was a fire in his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I like you. And it’s not a fresh feeling I got on the way here. What, you think I’ll say you made me?”

“N-no, it’s just…”

Eren made a face. “The only reason I’m not getting mad at you right now is because it’s your birthday,” Eren said, getting off him and sitting down beside him. Reiner sat up as well, “we’re barely two years apart. Did you at least like it? You’re not saying anything.”

Reiner hesitated but then nodded. “I did. Of course, I did…”, he mumbled.

Eren huffed and clucked his tongue. “I’m sorry I did that,” he said, “hope it didn’t ruin your day.”

“It’s fine… I said I liked it,” Reiner said back. There was something else he wanted to say, but Eren had already sat up and shaken the sand off his towel.

“I’m going back,” he said brusquely, "I'm sorry I did that."

Reiner opened his mouth but didn’t say anything as he watched Eren quickly walk away. He lay there alone, watching the sunset stretch out across the sea and thinking. There were too many things on his mind. The future was uncertain, and his mind was a mess. Being 18 sucked. Everything changed from one day to the next and it was terrifying.

And when the end of August came, his life changed forever.

* * *


	8. Finding home: IV, An Epilogue

* * *

On that night at the end of August, Reiner walked out of the house with his face covered in blood. The thought of cleaning it didn’t cross his mind, and he didn’t see where he was going.

He ended up at a dead-end at a part of the neighbourhood where he’d never been. It was an old warehouse with the gate boarded up. There was nothing beyond it, but trees and the place seemed to have been taken over by wild weeds. The only light came from a flickering streetlight beside the warehouse, and he sat under it.

His pocket was heavy with the object he’d thrown at him. He pulled it out and put it on the floor in front of him, staring at it with dry eyes. It was a clay statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. His head was covered in Reiner’s blood, and the man who’d thrown Him at Reiner was in the hospital. This time, the heart attack had been a major one. 

Reiner was left in the house, covered in his own blood, staring at the closed door. Now he was at a dead-end beside a boarded-up warehouse under a flickering streetlight with a statue of Jesus. There was no need to pinch himself; his head ached enough to let him know he was awake. But he was sitting there, and he was standing in front of himself, watching the bloodied boy sat there. And he didn’t know who was real.

When he got his phone out, he didn’t know who he’d call, so he called nobody, but then somebody called him. 

Eren.

It’d been almost a month since they’d last talked, and he didn’t know what he could possibly want now, at 2 in the morning, so he ignored it. But he called again. And again. And at the fourth attempt, he left him a voice message. Reiner leant against the streetlight to listen to it.

 _“I’m worried about you,”_ his voice sounded strained, _“Connie said something had happened at your house and that nobody was there. Please, Reiner, I’m sorry about leaving like that. I was angry because I have these feelings for you, and I don’t know what to do about them. I’m so fucking stupid, it’s fine if you don’t feel the same, it really is,”_ his voice got choked then, and Reiner gripped his phone, _“I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you. I’ll kill your stepfather if he hurt you, I’ll kill him.”_ he said, and the message ended. Reiner held the phone and stared at it. Then he listened to it again. And one more time. The fourth time he listened to it made him stand up and walk up to the warehouse. 

The boards roared, and the nails screeched under his hands when he pulled them off one by one, throwing them aside. He opened the gate and got his phone to point the torchlight into it.

It was empty. There was nothing but dust there. Why would anybody board up an empty place?

He stepped into it, and his footsteps drummed through the empty space.

Then he was stood there and wondered what had been there and what he would have stored there. He wondered what he could put there and gripped the bloodied symbol in his hand.

It felt like the right thing to put there. Reiner laughed drily, and his voice echoed, almost mad. In the middle of that empty warehouse, he put down the Sacred Heart of Jesus and watched it. Then he walked out and closed the gate, walking back to the house by himself. He was alone for the first time in five years.

* * *

Reiner's eyes were fixed on the window most of the night. When dawn broke and the first rays of the morning sun hit his face, reality dawned on him, too.

 _“They say he didn’t breathe for too long,”_ his mother told him on the phone when he picked up her call as he walked to school, _“he will have permanent sequels.”_

“Okay,” Reiner replied, his voice coming out hoarse and painful from not being used in so long, _“what will you do about it?”_

 _“I think, I think I need to take care of him…”_ she choked out.

Reiner gripped his phone and stopped outside the gates to the school. It was too early for classes. Barely past 7am.

 _“You don’t need to do anything,”_ Reiner said, _“if you do it, it’s because you want to.”_

 _“I don’t want to! But… people will talk,”_ she whispered as if God was eavesdropping, _“God forgive me…”_ she paused and then she said it, _“but you’re 18 now, Reiner, you can go. I’ll be fine on my own.”_

He gripped his phone and had to sit down on the steps in front of the school.

 _“God forgives you, mum,”_ he said quietly, _“call me later, okay?”_

“ _Okay…”_ she said and sniffled, _“go get ready for school, angel.”_

Reiner sighed and hung up, putting his phone back in his bag. He didn’t expect the front door to be unlocked when he turned the handle, but it was. The tears started falling then, and he was ashamed of them. He walked blindly and hid in the basement, where nobody could see him.

It wasn’t because of him that he was crying, it was his mother having to carry that cross, and it was how little he felt about that man’s downfall past the initial shock. When he heard Mr. Ackerman’s voice he thought he was in trouble. Instead, he got what felt like fatherly comfort, even though he had no way of knowing what that felt like.

* * *

When the day ended, he didn’t want to go home. His mother was still in the hospital and had told him she’d likely stay there the whole night again.

“Why are you here?” Eren asked when he saw him sat at the bus stop at 8:35pm. Reiner blinked up at him and saw his eyes shine. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said back. Eren sat beside him in silence, his hands fisted over his thighs.

The silence was loaded and broken only by the cars zooming by, disturbing the quiet of the evening. Reiner’s mind was reeling, full of thoughts, but it was comforting to have Eren there. When he told Annie and Bert about what had happened, he’d been surprised to see them unfazed by it. Even more so when Annie said, without blinking, “I hope he dies.”

Bert made a face, but the truth was clear; he wished he died too. Reiner asked how they knew, and they said they didn’t, but knew that someone must be hurting him. And he didn’t have any allergies that made his eyes red.

“I called you.” Eren said.

“I know.”

“You didn’t pick up.”

“I know that, too, I couldn’t. There was too much going on,” Reiner said, “I’m sorry.”

There was silence again.

 _“My stepfather had a heart attack last night,”_ he said quietly, _“they say he’ll have sequels.”_

 _“I hope he dies,”_ Eren snapped and gritted his teeth. Reiner looked at him and met his eyes, _“don’t tell me you want him to live.”_

Reiner bit his lower lip and looked away. “ _My mother says she’ll take care of him.”_

 _“All the more reason for him to die,”_ Eren said.

Reiner was quiet. Eren couldn’t get it, and he didn’t have the words to explain it. The bus arrived, and they got up.

 _“It’s not that easy, Eren,”_ he said as they got on the bus.

* * *

Eren didn’t understand why it wouldn’t be easy. Shitty man makes your life hell, you hate him. Shitty man has a heart attack, you rejoice. Simple. But Reiner didn't think it was simple.

Instead of going home, Eren told him they should go somewhere. Reiner accepted but looked airy and lost. Eren was more worried than angry. 

He’d been moping for a month while Reiner was going through all that. It was frustrating and pathetic. Reiner had been right about him - he was a goddamn spoiled brat. What good did growing taller and bulking up do if your brain was still stupid?

“I’m paying,” he said when he saw Reiner pull out his wallet, “don’t argue.”

They sat together with their McDonald’s at the shopping centre and ate in silence. Eren was so upset he ripped open the packet of ketchup with too much strength. It squirted onto the glass of the railing. Reiner grabbed one of his napkins and cleaned it. 

_“I’m sorry, Eren,”_ he muttered, sniffing and balling the napkin, chucking it aside, _“I didn’t mean to dump this shit on you.”_

 _“No,”_ Eren cut him off, _“no,”_ he said again, softer, and looked at him, “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Reiner blinked. _“What for?”_

 _“For being a stupid piece of shit. I should have said something,”_ Eren started, eyes on the food, _“When Connie texted me, I was so scared I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to go find you, but I was scared of that too,”_ Eren said and bit onto his hamburger, sniffing, _“I’ve never been so scared of anything in my life.”_

Reiner stared at him and saw the dark circles under his eyes and the scratches in his arms. Scared? He’d been scared? _Eren Yeager had been scared?_

 _“You were scared?”_ Reiner asked softly.

Eren stared at his eyes, and his lip trembled, but it filled his mouth with food and held it back. _“I thought you were dead, goddammit,”_ he said bitterly, _“I was scared out of my mind, I wanted to run but it was too far, and I spent the day trying to see you and couldn’t find you,”_ he sipped on his Fanta and his hands were shaking a bit, _“then I skulked around because I didn’t want to go home and be alone with these thoughts. I thought you were fucking dead,”_ he said raising his voice, _“and then I see you, you look like someone threw a knife at your head, and you tell me it was that piece of shit who dropped, and you go and say_ ‘oh, it’s not easy’. _How is it not easy?”_ he crumpled his hamburger wrapper and chucked it aside, _“Fuck, I’m really a goddamn child, because I can’t see why it wouldn’t be easy to hate someone who wronged you.”_

Reiner listened in silence to Eren's rant in German and couldn’t help smiling. He was tired, and Eren was tired, and it was all a mess, and his life wouldn’t be the same and that was terrifying. How could he explain the emptiness? How could he explain that it didn’t bring him any comfort that that man was down? How could he explain the guilt that had been carved into him so deep that he couldn’t get rid of it? How could he get over the trauma of having to stretch himself out so thin he couldn’t find himself anymore? The answer was that he couldn’t. All he had to do was learn to live with it and move on as best as he could.

 _“Eren, I appreciate you being angry on my behalf, but there’s nothing you can do,”_ he said, at last, finishing his chips. Eren looked at him, _“and there’s nothing I can do either,_ ” he shrugged, _“it’s not my decision to make, he’ll live. Shit like that dies hard”_ he scoffed and kept going, _“I know he will live and it’s my mother’s decision to keep him. All I can do is get away from there,”_ he paused and closed his eyes, fighting his emotions, “ _she’s endured a lot, we both have, but if he can’t hurt her anymore then…”_ he shrugged, “ _I don’t have reasons to stay there anymore.”_

Eren looked at him in silence.

 _“You were taking it for her,”_ he said, and it was a statement, _“you were letting him have a go at you for her._ ”

Reiner just shrugged. What if he was? It didn’t matter anymore. She was safe now and told him he could go. It hurt, and it was frustrating. He didn’t like the idea of leaving her behind with that man, but what could he do if she’d decided to be a beacon of Christian virtuosity? Life wasn’t fair.

 _“You’re really…”_ Eren didn’t know what he was so he just said, _“you really are crazy.”_

 _“I am, aren’t I?”_ Reiner said with a tired smile, _“it wasn’t a knife, you know?”_ he snorted, and Eren listened as he sipped the rest of his Fanta, _“it was a Jesus figure.”_

Eren choked on his drink. _“A what?”_

 _“Sacred Heart of Jesus,”_ Reiner answered and started laughing _, “and I left it at an old empty warehouse in a dead-end.”_

Eren snorted. _“That’s very symbolic, isn’t it?”_ he asked. Reiner shrugged, _“I’m glad.”_

_“You are?”_

Eren smiled and pushed the trays away, sighing. _“Yeah, but I wish I could stop liking you. I don’t know how I feel about falling for a crazy guy who leaves Jesus in empty warehouses,”_ he said, _“what if you decide to the same to me? Don’t know how I’d feel about that.”_

Reiner chuckled. Eren had succeeded in boosting his mood with his anger and his light-hearted comments. Eren met his eyes and saw his smile, _“I’m sorry I’m crazy. I wouldn’t do that to you. You’re not Jesus,”_ he paused and sniffed _, "and I like you too."_

Eren chortled. Then he returned his smile and licked his lips. _“Does that mean you’ll let me kiss you again?”_

Reiner shrugged with a smile. _“Maybe,”_ he said. Eren shook his head.

 _“I don’t want a maybe. I want a yes or a no,”_ Eren demanded. 

Reiner chuckled getting up with their trays. _“Yes,”_ he said and watched as Eren’s face lit up, _“no grey areas for you, then.”_

 _“No, it’s yes or no,”_ Eren said following him, _“let’s watch a movie,”_ he suggested as Reiner dumped the garbage in the bin and put the tray away.

_“So that you can kiss me?”_

Eren grinned. _“Exactly, I don’t want to share your cute pink cheeks with anyone here,_ ” he said. Reiner made a face, _“What? It’s true. You’re cute as fuck, and I’m a greedy bastard. I don’t want anybody else to see it.”_

Reiner’s cheeks turned pink. Eren gasped dramatically and grabbed his hand. _“Let’s run! It’s happening!”_

Reiner chortled as he was pulled along, knowing well that Eren was being silly on purpose to make him feel better. Eren meant it, though. He was greedy, and he thought Reiner was adorable when he blushed.

The future was uncertain and terrifying, but he had his friends. He had Eren. And he would let himself be happy for the night.

* * *

Erwin tried hard to keep a straight face when, a couple weeks later, Levi told him that Reiner was going to live with them for a while. Of course, he had already been informed of his difficult home situation and how it’d ended. What he didn’t expect was that Levi would go and adopt Reiner. Erwin was happy to have Reiner, of course, and he told him as much as soon as it became clear that he’d be living with them until he finished his education. It was just the fact that it’d been Levi’s choice to take him in. That made Erwin want to smother his partner in a hug as big as his heart.

Reiner was told that Erwin and Levi were a couple, of course. He was an awkward boy, but he’d managed to say he was thankful for their kindness and that he wasn't straight either.

Erwin couldn’t hold it in, though. Reiner was there and was very embarrassed, but he found it comforting. That felt like a home.

“I thought you said you didn’t want kids, Levi,” Erwin said on their first night having dinner, the three of them, “and you went and adopted one.”

Reiner was silent, eating his food, his red face lowered.

Levi gave Erwin a pointed look. “He’s almost a man,” he defended, “and he needed a home. You told me about the shit that had gone down, and we have lots of space,” he said and took a big sip of his wine, “I don’t forget where I came from and he’s a good kid.”

Erwin smiled fondly. “I know he is. I just think your heart is as beautiful as you, that’s all,” he said. Levi clucked his tongue and sighed. Erwin glanced at Reiner, whose ears were bright pink, “don’t be shy, Reiner. We’re always like this. I hope you can get used to it,” he said, and then, “we’ll be here for you, okay? Anything you need, just say it.”

Reiner nodded very quickly and looked up to face his English teacher, who smiled gently and patted his shoulder.

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“No sirs in this house,” Levi said, frowning, “in here we call each other by the names we were given.”

Reiner was overwhelmed with it. When he texted his friends about it later, they’d been happy to hear that he was fine. He told his mum he was fine, too. She was holding up.

Then Eren made him laugh when he told him that he’d never seen two adults in a relationship look so in love.

“Guess now you’ll get double the dad experience,” he said over the phone. Reiner chuckled, “since you never had any,” he said, “I thought Mr. Ackerman was going to whack us when he walked up to us like that but turns out he just wanted to adopt you,” they both laughed, “I feel like you’ll be happy there, babe.”

“Yeah, me too,” Reiner said and smiled.

The journey into that home had been a bumpy and painful one, but he felt like he’d arrived somewhere. Like he was being rewarded for his trials. Reiner knew he could heal there. He’d just have to get used to their old songs. The Drifters had sung _‘The Good Life’_. Maybe it wouldn’t be hard to get used to them.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. 
> 
> [The Drifters' The Good Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aT8a1EWNM5Y)


End file.
